


The Tree of Life

by Poetry



Series: Dæmorphing [19]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alien Culture, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Angst, Gen, POV Outsider, Political Intrigue, Revolution, Voluntary Controllers, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-02 00:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10932762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poetry/pseuds/Poetry
Summary: The Animorphs, the free Hork-Bajir, and the Yeerk Peace Movement start a revolution.





	1. Your Own Backyard

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to my personal heroine, lit_luminary, for beta reading this monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See endnotes for content warnings this chapter.
> 
> ANGEL: There is No Zion Save Where You Are!  
> If you Cannot find your Heart’s desire –  
> PRIOR: – In your own backyard –  
> ANGEL, PRIOR, & BELIZE: You never lost it to begin with.  
> – L. Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, by way of Tony Kushner’s Angels in America

**Toby**

The guard on duty shook me awake. “Ship from Mother Sky,” he said. “Come this way.”

I climbed to the top of my tree, taking care not to wake my parents. When I saw the ship streaking through the sky, straight toward the valley, I recognized it, and my blood ran cold. “That’s a Yeerk ship. Sound the alarm, wake all the warriors. Yeerk ship!”

That startled my parents awake. They joined me in the canopy. All around, I could see Hork-Bajir rising to the tops of their sleeping trees to see the ship. I touched my head blades to my parents’ and went to the appointed meeting place in times of crisis, the big rock flecked with mica. The valley’s warriors gathered around me at the meeting rock. We heard a whooshing sound, and all looked up to Mother Sky. The ship was close enough that we could see the _hrala_ pulsing and crackling around it. It would land at the northern end of the valley, near the waterfall there. I started moving. “Come,” I said. “We have to be ready to attack where it lands.”

We hid ourselves in the trees around the northern end of Kref Magh. Soon the descent of the ship was louder than the crash of the waterfall. The trees rustled and swayed in its wake. It landed. My warriors drew closer, under the cover of foliage, ready to descend with blades outstretched. I could hear their deep breathing as they readied the attack.

The door to the spaceship opened, and out of it stepped a legend. We all recognized it from the stories: the green skin, the small wings, and most of all, the gleaming-bright eyes. A creature of Father Deep. One of our creators, the Arn.

But it was in a Yeerk ship, and the Yeerks had taken over our world. According to the legends, the Arn had altered their own bodies so that Yeerks couldn’t infest them. But I couldn’t take any chances. I signaled to my warriors, and they attacked. Almost soundlessly, they dropped from the trees, tackled the Arn to the ground, and held it there with a wrist blade to the throat.

I walked over to the Arn and said, “How did you find us here?”

“My people have had technology to track you for centuries,” it said.

“And why are you here?”

“My name is Quafijinivon, and I am here to help you reclaim your homeworld from the Yeerks,” said the Arn.

I tilted my head. I didn’t trust the Arn. But if it had come here directly from our home, it would have news. And maybe, just maybe, in its desire to save itself, it could help save us, too.

“Well,” I said. “I’m not calling a meeting circle in the middle of the night, not even for an Arn, so you might as well get some sleep. Where would you prefer?”

“My ship would be the most comfortable, I think,” Quafijinivon said.

I laughed humorlessly. “You really do think your creations are stupid, don’t you? I’m not letting you back in there without supervision. Where in our _valley_ would you prefer to sleep?”

  


When my parents and I came down from our sleeping tree to bathe in the morning, Robin and Ruby waited for us by the creek, though Ruby stood some distance from Robin, as if he had something catching. Most of the valley treated the new-frees like that, these days. Their mourning for their Yeerks unnerved my people, even disgusted them. It unnerved me, too, but I was responsible for everyone in Kref Magh, not just the ones I liked.

“What happened last night?” Robin said, holding his dæmon against his chest. “We’re not under attack, are we?”

“No,” I said. I considered how much to tell the humans. This was a Hork-Bajir matter, ours to handle. But anything that happened to us would affect them. They had a right to know some of it. “That ship came from our conquered homeworld. The Hork-Bajir are an engineered race, not a natural one. The ship was flown by one of our creators, the Arn, to deliver us a message.”

Both humans’ eyes went round, a sign of surprise in their people. Robin said, “Does that mean you have a chance to take your homeworld back?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Thanks for letting me know,” Robin said. He glanced at Ruby, then left. She whispered _thank you_ and fled. She was still afraid of my people, unaccustomed to us in our uninfested state, unlike the new-frees.

“Arn come from Hork-Bajir home,” my mother said as we bathed.

“Yes,” I said.

“Arn tell story of Hork-Bajir home?”

“I hope he will. I think it will be a sad story, but we must hear it.”

“Jara afraid,” my father said.

“I’m afraid too,” I admitted, because my parents were the only ones I could afford to tell.

All of my people gathered for the circle, except the _kawatnoj_ and the sick and those who had to mind them. Quafijinivon we kept at the center of the circle, with over a hundred of its creations gathered around it. _Hrala_ swirled around the gathered circle in a great golden vortex.

“I am Quafijinivon,” it said. “I am the last of the Arn.”

That made an impression. The stories told of how the Arn made themselves useless hosts to the Yeerks, how the Yeerks used them for target practice. But we hadn’t thought they would all die off so soon.

“I intercepted a transmission from the Yeerks indicating that you had a free colony on Earth,” Quafijinivon said to me.

I lowered my head so my blades showed toward him more than my eyes. “Either speak so all of my people can understand you, or don’t speak at all.”

The Arn’s small red mouth puckered, but it corrected itself. “I read a message from the Yeerks and learned there were free Hork-Bajir on Earth. When I saw that message, I knew there was hope to take back our planet.”

That set the people to murmuring. I didn’t want them to raise their hopes more than they ought, so I said, “And how would you do that, Quafijinivon?”

“I have…” The Arn visibly struggled to phrase its words simply. “I have studied ways to improve Hork-Bajir. So new ones that are born can be stronger. Better prepared for the Yeerks.” It looked at me. “DNA modifications. I wish to collect DNA samples from each of you, here in the valley, so I can make more Hork-Bajir back on our planet. Strong Hork-Bajir that can fight against the Yeerks.”

“How would they do that?” I countered. “No matter how strong they are, they would need weapons.”

“Aldrea and Dak Hamee hid caches of stolen Yeerk weapons,” Quafijinivon said. “I have their last statements. I know where the caches are. And if you let me use your DNA, then I can make warriors who can use them. I can even inject you with gene therapy agents that will make your children here stronger and better, too. And I will share with you the last statements of Aldrea and Dak.”

My father stepped forward from the circle. “I am Jara Hamee. Son of Seerow Hamee. Son of Dak Hamee and Aldrea. Story of Dak and Aldrea is Jara’s story. Is Toby’s.” His eyes shone with hunger for this final piece of lore from his ancestors. I could see the _hrala_ reflected in them. “Tell us the story of Grandfather and Grandmother, Arn. Hork-Bajir will listen.”

Quafijinivon’s diamond-bright eyes were impassive. “I will. After I have collected your DNA.”

“Story of Dak and Aldrea is not Arn’s,” Jara said fiercely. “Story belongs to Jara, to Toby.”

“Stories belong to no one,” Quafijinivon said, which set my people to grumbling and my blood to boiling. My mother pressed her wrist blade to my elbow blade, soothing me.

“You say you can make better Hork-Bajir,” I said. “Better how?”

“I can increase the chance of new Hork-Bajir being Seers,” Quafijinivon said, which drew a more positive reaction from the crowd.

“Why didn’t you say so in the beginning?” I pressed. “You’re being secretive, Arn. We will not make such an important decision unless you tell us the whole.”

“The changes I have made to Hork-Bajir DNA,” Quafijinivon said slowly, “would increase the chance of producing Seers. But the changes to the brain would also make these Seers unable to see _hrala._ ”

The quiet valley filled with the rasping sound of Hork-Bajir striking their wrist blades together, a gesture of refusal, rejection, recoil. Some backed away from the Arn like it was diseased.

Elgat stepped into the circle to speak. “Hork-Bajir not see _hrala_ , not Hork-Bajir.” A guttural roar of approval followed her words.

Quafijinivon blinked, slowly, as if this were a surprise. “You think you can win this battle just as you are? Against the Yeerks?”

My mother stepped into the circle. “Maybe lose. Maybe win. But _Hork-Bajir_ lose. _Hork-Bajir_ win. If what Arn make win, is Arn win. Not Hork-Bajir win.”

I beat my tail against the ground in agreement. My people joined me. In that moment, despite my disgust toward the Arn, I was very proud.

“Very well,” the Arn said. “Then I will use your DNA to make Hork-Bajir like you. They will be the soldiers of the homeworld.”

Meret stepped into the circle. “Meret not trust Arn.”

Fal Tagut stepped in next. “Arn not leader of Hork-Bajir. Seer lead Hork-Bajir. Seer are gift from Mother Sky and Father Deep, not from Arn.”

My people demanded of the Arn how they could know it had done as we requested with our DNA. “I can bring a few of you with me,” it said.

That got some of the crowd excited. I knew that many of my people dreamed of returning to our homeworld. I would like to visit it too, someday. But this was a trap. None of my people would be able to understand the Arn’s genetic manipulations except for me. They would only know whether it had done as promised or not when the new Hork-Bajir were born, and by then it would be too late, if the Arn had unleashed twisted _hrala_ -blind monsters on the world.

But maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of the trap.

I raised my voice. “Is there a Chee in Kref Magh today?”

“Yes,” said Bej Weta, whose _kawatnoj_ was in the creches with the minders. “Bej see Koril with Tom and Ruby.”

“Could you bring them here, Bej?” He went to fetch the Chee.

In the meantime, I stepped into the circle and said, “My people will need more time to decide. But let me make something very clear, Quafijinivon. The final statements of Dak and Aldrea belong to the Hork-Bajir, not to you. Whether we decide to give you our DNA samples or not, you will release their statements to us, as part of our birthright, as the people they sacrificed everything to defend.”

“I will not,” said Quafijinivon, infuriatingly impassive. “The data are encrypted on my drive beyond your ability to extract, Toby Hamee. I will release them when I get what I need to save our world, and no sooner.”

I laughed. The Arn said _our world_ , but it really meant _my world_. It didn’t think the Hork-Bajir were entitled to anything. Well, if it thought we were powerless, it was about to learn differently.

Bej Weta returned with Chee-koril, who was still disguised as a human with a large dog dæmon. I left the circle and said to Koril, “Have you heard about the visitor in our valley?”

“Bej told me all about it,” Koril said.

“Do you agree with our position about the last statements of Dak and Aldrea?”

“For my part, yes.”

“And is it within the bounds of your programming to steal and decrypt those statements from Quafijinivon’s ship, against its wishes?”

Koril shrugged, after the human fashion. “I’m a pacifist, not a paragon of perfect virtue. I can lie and steal all I like, as long as there is no threat of violence.”

“Please,” Bej said. “Give Hork-Bajir our story.”

It seemed that Koril could not argue with that. Bej took them to the Arn’s ship. For the first time since the Arn landed, I began to hope that this could be a good thing for my people.

When I returned to the circle, there was a deep discussion going on about whether Quafijinivon could take all of us back to the homeworld.

“My ship is too small,” the Arn said. “And if I somehow acquired a bigger one, it would draw too much attention from the Yeerks. I can only take three, at most.”

“Fal Tagut will go,” Fal said.

“And Bek!”

“Bek too young!”

And on it went. The Arn looked bored, almost contemptuous, and some part of me wanted to strike him. Finally it was decided that only Hork-Bajir without _kawatnoj_ , but old enough to have them, should go, and of those we should choose the ones who knew the most stories about our planet.

Bej and Koril returned. The Chee’s green eyes swam with tears. I knew they weren’t real, but I suspected the feeling was. It had gone as I had hoped. “I have their statements,” they whispered. “I heard them. Your people should… it’s important.”

“Thank you,” I said. “We will. There is one more thing you could do to help, Koril.”

“What is it?” they said.

“It is a lot to ask,” I hedged.

“Please, tell me.”

“Would anyone in your CheeNet be willing to go to our homeworld with the Arn? To make sure it doesn’t alter our DNA against our wishes?”

Koril closed their eyes. When they opened them, they said, “None of the other Chee will do it. But I will.”

It happened so fast I wondered at it. But then, the Chee were walking supercomputers. They thought at a much faster pace than any of the rest of us did. They might have had an entire meeting-circle over the CheeNet in the time it took for Koril to close their eyes.

I returned with Koril to the circle. “Chee-koril has offered to go on the ship,” I announced, “as a guardian over the Arn, to make sure it makes true Hork-Bajir as it promised. Do my people consent?”

My people started thumping their tails to take the count. Most fell into the beat, but a few were thumping off the beat – I sensed the gaps in the rhythm and turned to find Elgat pounding dissent. She said, “Hork-Bajir not go too?”

“Yes,” I said. “Three Hork-Bajir will go.” And Elgat’s tail joined the consensus beat.

“Will Toby go?” my mother said quietly.

“No,” I said, loud enough for my voice to carry. “I must stay here in Kref Magh to lead. I will not go.” Quafijinivon had known I wouldn’t, which is why it thought it could deceive us.

We achieved consensus. I found Quafijinivon impossible to read in that moment, though it was studying Koril very closely. “Very well,” it said. “I will collect the samples.”

“No,” I said. “Tomorrow. First we have to decide who will go with you. And we have to listen to the final statements of Dak and Aldrea.”

“Very well,” Quafijinivon said. “I will fetch them from the ship.”

I smiled. “No need. We have them already. Your escort will take you away from here while we listen.”

Finally I registered defeat in the Arn. It had been outplayed. But I thought it would not betray its passengers on the way to the homeworld. It would take any protection for its sorry hide it could get.

I will not write in this journal about what I heard when I played back Dak and Aldrea’s final statements. It is for only Hork-Bajir to know; Koril and Quafijinivon are the only outsiders who have heard them. My people may change our minds and choose to share them, one day. But given the way Quafijinivon tried to use and control our stories, we are more wary of giving others access. So much has been taken from us. We will keep this one small precious thing to ourselves. But I will say this: what I heard helped me make peace with Aldrea as my ancestor. It was always easy to be proud of Dak Hamee, to see myself in his brave struggle. Aldrea, though, had always troubled me. Andalites were the enemy, and that Aldrea had trapped herself in Hork-Bajir morph had never made it easier to accept that I was a descendant of the enemy. But Aldrea’s struggles with her own history of violence and power, her fundamental difference from the other Hork-Bajir – I could finally find an uncomplicated point of connection with her. That meant a lot.

Tobias came to Kref Magh later. He found me at the top of the tallest tree in the valley, watching the patterns of _hrala_ unfurl across my home. «Fal Tagut told me what happened,» he said. «He’s very excited to go to the homeworld.»

“Many of my people are,” I said. “They’ve heard the stories of our home, and they want to see the legends for themselves. Only three will get the chance. For now, anyway. Fal might be chosen.”

«You’re not going now, are you?» Tobias said. «Leading your people here is too important.»

I inclined my head in agreement.

«What about after the war? Will you go then?»

I don’t think I would have explained it to any outsider except for him. But for Tobias, of all people, I wanted to give an answer. Finally, I said, “My people have a legend. We believe that all _hrala_ comes from the Tree of Life. Whenever we understand each other, tell stories, all the things that make _hrala_ , we make the Tree of Life bear fruit. It needs us, and we need it. Many of my people, especially the older ones, believe that the Tree of Life grows on our homeworld, and we have to go back if we ever want to see it again. But I believe we must plant the Tree of Life wherever we are. We have to water it, and prune it, and make it grow, together. Sometimes, when I climb to the top of this tree, the highest one in Kref Magh, I think I can see it, blooming where the teachers guide and the lovers court.” I shook my head. “This must all seem fantastical to you.”

«No,» Tobias said. «Not at all. It sounds like what Loren means when she talks about heaven.»

“Is there room in Loren’s heaven for Hork-Bajir?”

«In Loren’s heaven? Definitely. Everyone else’s heaven? I don’t know.»

“This is why I like you best, Tobias. You never try to make humans sound better than they are. You tell me about them exactly the way you see them.” I suspected that was because he had been treated poorly by most other humans he had known, but I wasn’t so cruel as to say so.

Tobias said, «I’m glad you got to hear Dak and Aldrea’s _hirac delests_.» I looked at him sharply, wondering how he knew that word, which I had learned for the first time from the recorded statements, then realized that of course Ax would have told him. He went on, hesitantly, «Ax thinks that Elfangor would have recorded one. I wish I could hear it.»

It suddenly occurred to me that Tobias, in himself, was much like my people: a being of two worlds, orphaned from his past, with no clear path into the future. “It didn’t give us answers,” I said. “If that’s what you’re looking for. But I think it will help us ask the right questions.”

«Like what?»

“Like what to teach our children,” I said. I looked north, to where the crèches were. “Come. I’ll take you to watch some of the lessons. Maybe you’ll have some ideas.”

«Me?» Tobias said, startled.

I smiled. “You did a good job with me.” And I swung through the trees toward the creches, knowing he would follow.

  


**Melissa**

My name is Melissa Chapman, my dæmon’s name is Ververet, and today is my twenty-first day in Kref Magh.

Yeah, the valley has a name. I found that out today when it randomly occurred to me to ask Elgat. When she told me, I felt like kind of a jerk for not realizing the Hork-Bajir would have named it after living here for a like a year and a half, which is probably longer in Hork-Bajir years. Kref Magh means “green place.” Where the Hork-Bajir come from, the trees aren’t so green.

Hork-Bajir culture is interesting. I never got to see that before. There are no voluntary Hork-Bajir hosts, probably because the Yeerks treat them worse than the humans. The Animorphs wouldn’t get it, if I told them that. They’d say the Yeerks treat all hosts badly. They’re slaves, after all. But it’s not that simple.

That’s why I remind myself every day to be patient. When I hear the new-free circle meeting without me, I choke down my anger and go do something to distract myself. When I saw the empty bracket by the entrance to the yurt where Meret used to leave bunches of sweet-smelling branches, I gathered some myself as best I could.

I still cry when the children run away from me, though.

The others haven’t taken it well. Jamal never speaks or makes eye contact with anyone but Julie. Julie keeps trying to talk to the Hork-Bajir, but none of them will listen. Robin goes on long walks through the woods and comes back dirty and panting and scratched up with thorns. Miguel is constantly hanging out with the Chee, and when they’re not around, he flies into sudden fits of rage that no one can predict.

I haven’t been taking it well either. I can’t stand to be left alone, but I can’t seem to have a conversation with anyone either. But today something happened that I think is going to change all of that.

I don’t know how it started, exactly. All I know is that I was trying to practice gymnastics, so I wouldn’t get out of shape, when I suddenly heard screams. I stopped my practice routine and cautiously walked toward the sound, keeping behind tree cover as much as I could.

Delareyne was attacking Rois, kicking with her hooves and headbutting with her horns, while the flamingo dæmon struggled wildly, trying to strike Delareyne with her long bill, but too off-balance to land a blow. Meanwhile, Jamal cowered and Tom stood hunched in the shade of a tree, hugging himself, brown eyes blazing.

I stood frozen behind a tree. If Ververet tried to interfere, he’d be torn to shreds. I should have called for help, but my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth. I listened to Jamal’s and Rois’s whimpering, to the frantic rustling of feathers and the meaty impact of horns against flesh.

A tree shook, and Meret Kar dropped from it into the middle of the fight. Startled, Delareyne froze, and Rois managed to struggle backward from her. Meret grabbed Delareyne under her arm. I flinched, and so did Tom, I saw, but of course Meret was a Hork-Bajir, and human taboos held no weight for her. Delareyne struggled and kicked, but she was no match against the strength of a Hork-Bajir warrior. Frustrated, she screamed, “Put me down! I have to teach that Yeerk-lover a lesson!”

“No one learn lesson from hurt,” Meret said. “Only learn fear.”

Jamal had Rois in his arms, now, her neck draped over his shoulder and down his back. They rocked back and forth together on their long legs, tears leaking from Jamal’s eyes.

“They’re _sad_ because their Yeerks _died_!” Delareyne spat, glaring at Jamal and Rois. “They should be happy their slavemasters are dead!”

“Yes. Hork-Bajir think new-frees will change from sad to happy. But new-frees sad before, sad now. Meret think Tom and Hork-Bajir not know new-frees. Not understand.”

“I’m a new-free too,” Delareyne said. “I understand. They’re traitors!”

Meret turned to Jamal and Rois. “Jamal want Yeerks to win?”

Jamal shook his head.

“He’s _lying_!” Delareyne raged.

“Jamal!” The shout was from Julie. She came pelting through the trees. “Jamal, baby, are you okay?”

Jamal looked at her, eyes wide and soft, but said nothing. Julie took it in stride. Enther stretched toward Rois from Julie’s wrist and whispered something to his partner. Then he wrapped himself around Rois’s legs like a cat’s cradle. “I’m here, baby,” Julie said to Jamal, extending her hand to him slowly and settling it gently on his back. She rubbed soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

After a moment, she looked up and took in Meret holding Delareyne, with Tom still brooding against a tree. Her face grew hard. “This is your fault, isn’t it?” she said to Tom.

Tom just stared at the ground. Delareyne twisted in Meret’s grip to look up at her and said, “Put me down. I want to get away from these Uncle Toms.”

Julie’s lip curled in contempt. “Call me an Uncle Tom again, white boy, and you won’t like what I do next.”

Meret put Delareyne down. She leaped back to Tom’s side. With his dæmon there, a bit of the life seemed to come back into Tom, and he turned and walked away.

The last of the terrible fear drained out of me, and I came out from behind my tree. Meret and Jamal glanced at me, but Julie had other things on her mind. “What are you going to do about him?”

Meret curled her tail around her legs. “Meret not know.”

“Your people have meetings, right?” Julie said. “Circles? Some of them are for big decisions, right? Like what to do about that ship that crashed in the valley?”

“Yes.”

“Not all of those have to do with us,” Julie said, gesturing at herself and Jamal. “But some of them do. Like a meeting about what to do with Tom. One of us should be there for circles making decisions that matter to us.”

There was a long pause as Meret thought about this. “Meret understand. Meret tell Toby.”

“Thank you,” Julie said firmly. Meret seemed to get that it was time for her to leave, and swung up into the trees.

I took a step forward, crunching a twig under my shoe so Julie would notice me. She tore her eyes away from Jamal. “You saw all that?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I saw everything.”

“Delareyne hurt Rois,” Ververet said.

“I can guess why,” Julie said darkly.

Jamal cleared his throat, surprising me. He said, “Meret said she thinks the Hork-Bajir don’t understand us. Maybe they’re ready to listen.”

“Huh,” Julie said. “Maybe.”

“I think you should be our representative,” I said to her. “The one who goes to the circles and speaks for us. I think you’d do a good job.”

Julie shrugged. “I’ll do it. But let’s see what Robin and Miguel think first.” She put her hand on Jamal’s shoulder and steered him back to the yurt, Enther murmuring to Rois too softly for me to hear.

Later, Robin and Miguel agreed that Julie would be our voice in the Hork-Bajir circles. I’m glad about that. I was afraid things might never change between us and the Hork-Bajir, but now they have, even if it was for a terrible reason. I have no idea what we should do about Tom, but no one’s asking me to come up with a plan. That’s good. I’m better at noticing things and writing them down than figuring out what should happen next.

Still. I wonder what’s going to happen. Will the Hork-Bajir ever really understand us? Like I said, it’s different being a Hork-Bajir-Controller than a human-Controller. I mentioned that at the beginning of this diary entry but I didn’t explain it. I didn’t want to, because it’s so sad to think about. But I’m the only one of the new-frees who’s writing everything down. I should explain, so if anyone ever reads this journal, they’ll know.

Hork-Bajir don’t live as long as humans. I asked some of the older Hork-Bajir in Kref Magh, and they say the very oldest Hork-Bajir in the stories get to thirty of their years, which Toby says is twenty-eight of ours. They get as big and smart as adults by the time they’re a year old, and they go through puberty when they’re one and a half.

That makes things different with the Yeerks. It means that Hork-Bajir become dangerous at a young age. A Hork-Bajir could kill a human by the time it’s six months old, if it wanted to. So they infest Hork-Bajir very young. They don’t get to have childhoods. They don’t get to spend their early months with their parents. A Yeerk is pretty much the only parent a growing Hork-Bajir gets.

The other thing is that the Hork-Bajir Yeerks use as hosts now mostly weren’t born on the homeworld. The Yeerks bred them. Like animals. They force them to make babies and then they take them away.

So that’s why the Hork-Bajir are never voluntary hosts. All of us new-frees know this. We don’t talk about it, but we know. All we can do is hope that the Hork-Bajir can try to know us, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Graphic violence, racial microaggressions, mentions of eugenics and forced breeding programs.


	2. Enemies of the State

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See endnotes for content warnings this chapter.
> 
> “There's a reason you separate military and the police. One fights the enemies of the state, the other serves and protects the people. When the military becomes both, then the enemies of the state tend to become the people.” – Commander Bill Adama, in Ron Moore’s _Battlestar Galactica_

**Illim**

I said goodbye to Julian, and as I slid from his ear into the pool, I did the first thing I always did, and swam for a computer terminal.

The pool used to be an intimate, relaxing place for me. I would bask in the Kandrona and the company of my fellows. Now I think of the pool in much the same way as Julian used to think of his gym class as a boy: an arena where every move I made was under scrutiny, was always found wanting, and would be punished through the mechanisms of social control. In his case, the punishment was at the hands of bullies. In my case, it was by sub-Vissers. Very little difference between the two, in the end.

So ever since I swam deep into the Yeerk Peace Movement, I started to do the same thing Julian did in gym class long ago: I faded into the background, made an appearance of following the rules, and spoke only to people I could trust.

I inserted my palps into the computer interface. I had many messages waiting on my account, which with instruction from Bachu the android I had secured well against espionage, but for now I ignored them all in favor of my favorite message of every rane: the latest installment of my favorite ongoing epic, _The Sage in the Weeds_.

Julian laughs at me for loving this epic, calling it worse than any telenovela he’d seen on early afternoon Univision. I know it’s corny, because traditionalist epics are one of the few kinds of poolside entertainment the Empire will allow. It’s Yeerkish art in its purest form. No Empire, no conquered planets, just a story about Yeerks in our vast and varied pools back on the homeworld, which I had never seen and maybe never would, but I felt like I knew, at least in some pale, sun-bleached way. Maybe they told epics much like this one on the Iskoort world Mokad had visited, in the endless system of pipes and tanks where they swam through miles-high towers.

But when I opened the message, instead of telling me the latest exploits of Margoth and their mysterious mentor, the Sage, it read: “By order of Visser One, this entertainment has been permanently suspended.”

Shocked, I returned to my message queue and saw that there was a pool-wide broadcast from one of Visser One’s Blue Bands, Sub-Visser 201, ominously titled “New policies to ensure loyalty and cohesion in the Empire.” I read it, dread soaking deeper into my skin than the Kandrona. When I finished the message and closed it, I realized that all of my other waiting messages had been about the announcement. The Empire was coming for the Peace Movement in earnest now, and we were afraid.

I had been about to check out what the Peace Movement was saying in our private chatroom, but I felt the brush of palps against my back, and I disengaged from the interface. It was Firtips, the Yeerk in the Peace Movement most dedicated to collecting subversive stories and legends, so our people don’t lose our history. So close, I could feel Firtips’ electric fields thrumming with tension. They said, “I read the broadcast. They’ll come for me first. What do I do?”

My own fields started crackling with fear. Firtips was not just a friend, but an important resource. I didn’t even know how many epics lived in their memory and nowhere else. But where could I take Firtips when they would only starve for lack of Kandrona? There was no safehouse in the world that could accommodate a Yeerk. But I had to do something. I had to at least ask.

I touched my palps to Firtips and impressed my resolve upon them. “I have allies outside the pool. You know this. I am going to find help for you.”

“Thank you, Illim.”

I barely swam twenty bodylengths from the computer interface before I was accosted again, this time by one of the four Yeerk spawn-siblings of the Derane germline in the Peace Movement. “Did you see the new broadcast?” Derane demanded. “There are four approved epics left, and all of them set post-exodus, in the Empire era! All traditional songs, legends, and epics banned, even if they’re not actively subversive! And apparently we’re not allowed to refer to Yeerks with gender markers anymore, because that’s not Yeerkish, it’s a _host thing_ , though I wish Visser One the best of luck getting Visser Three to comply with that directive, he’s – oh _sorry_ , I mean _they’re_ – so attached to all the _powerful male_ trappings of _their_ host. And what will this mean for – ”

“Slow down, Derane,” I said. I could understand why xe was so worked up over that last point, though, as Derane and xyr siblings identified strongly with their Taxxon hosts’ worker gender. “I’ve read the broadcast, I know what’s in it.”

“Well, your feeding cycle is siar-rane, and you don’t work at the Pool like me, so what you _don’t_ know is what the reaction’s been since the broadcast went out yesterday,” Derane said. “Most in the pool just complain how few entertainment options there are now, and are practicing to make sure they don’t say anything gendered about themselves or others in front of the Sub-Vissers. The true believers never called for all this censorship, but now that the leadership’s done it they talk about how it should have been implemented long ago to keep our thoughts pure. And our sort? Well…”

This must be the lowest-ranking of the four Deranes (not that I cared about rank in the Empire, of course), because none of xyr siblings would play up the drama this much. But I indulged xyr, because with xyr Taxxon host xe lived at the Pool full-time, always with a finger on the pulse of the Pool, and I really needed to know. “Yes? What’s our sort saying?”

“Well, specifically, those fusty Peace Movement traditionalists, like my highest-ranking sibling. You know how much trouble we’ve had getting them to sign on to anything, since they’re so _filshig_ stuck on the old ways. Well, they’re all in a fine frenzy over the old legends getting banned. They’re afraid we’re going to forget where we came from and lose touch with our roots completely. I don’t like any of this, Illim, I’d be the first to say, but this is an opportunity for us. The outrage is strong right now, especially from the go-homers. This is your chance to really unite the Peace Movement behind a cause.”

“You mean our chance,” I said, feeling a little overwhelmed by the weight of responsibility everyone was putting on me in the wake of the new policies.

“No, I mean _your_ chance,” Derane said. “I don’t know what the leadership structure of this movement is, if there even is one, but as far as inspiration goes, you’re swimming in Mokad’s wake. People respect you and your host, Illim.”

“Why?” I said, before I could stop myself.

Derane didn’t say anything for what felt like too long. I could feel Yeerks moving rapidly all around us, the snap and hum and squeak of conversation a hush, eerily quiet in the wake of the broadcast. Why hadn’t I noticed when I first dropped in the Pool?

Finally, Derane said, “Well, you know why my siblings and I respect you, Illim. People like us, we know what happened between you and your host, and we think… well, we think it’s amazing you found a way to be kind in a system like this.” Xyr fields wavered with what would be a shrug in a human. “The hostless Yeerks who just want something better? They like the way you’ve taken up Mokad’s ways of asking about the future. You don’t pretend to know the answers, but you ask questions that make us look forward. And the old-school homeworld conservatives respect you because you actually listen to Firtips’s old stories. Me, I’m more interested in coming up with new stories, more relevant ones, you know? But you like those. You even have commentary.”

“That’s not my commentary,” I objected. “I pass on the stories to my host. He’s much more insightful about that sort of thing.”

“And you give credit where it’s due, see?” Derane said. “Come on, Illim. Swim while the current’s flowing your way. We _need_ you.”

So with that, I went back to a computer interface and answered all the messages I could. Then it was time to go back to Julian. Reunited with him, I almost believed that I could do everything Derane said I could. I told him everything that had happened in the pool. He said that not much had changed in the voluntary area. «I guess it doesn’t matter what TV we watch,» he observed dryly, «since it’s just like those toys they put in ferret cages or whatever. Who cares what the pets get up to?»

«If that’s what our overlords think, they haven’t seen enough TV. Some of your science fiction programs are very nearly documentaries.»

Julian laughed in his mind. I love when he does that – laugh so only I can hear. «So. Firtips. What can we do for them? You think Wena or her associates might take them on?»

«Let’s find out.» We left the Pool through an exit in the mall and drove to Wena Shih’s house – though her name was Bachu, in truth.

When she answered the door, she said, “I heard the news,” and let me in. “Anything to drink?”

Julian shook his head. I paced. Julian is not fidgety by nature, but I don’t see the point of having legs and arms if they just go unused, and Julian says it’s good exercise so he lets me. Kalysico, though, I left in her tank in the corner, where she could swim her circles in peace. “Our… historian, for lack of a better word, is in danger. Their name is Firtips. They collect all kinds of stories. That’s not allowed now.” I stopped and looked Bachu in the eye. That sort of thing works well on humans, and if it might work on androids, I would make the attempt. “Can any of your people help? Like you did with Mokad?”

Bachu petted the thick ruff of her false dog dæmon. “A few would be willing to give basic sensory access. But none are prepared to share speech, hologram, and motor functions as I was.” She looked up at me. “I would do it. Partner with this Yeerk, in full.”

I felt a rush of relief. If we could just organize their escape, Firtips would be safe. Then Julian said, “But what about the others? My mother was in Spain during the rise of Franco. I know what happens next. The obvious targets like Firtips are just the beginning.”

“I can try to convince others,” Bachu said. “But I know that sitting in an android’s head, alone and unable to speak or act, is no life for a Yeerk. I’m sorry I can’t offer anything more. I suppose you could ask the Andalite bandits if they’d use the morphing power like they did on Aftran, let your renegade Yeerks trap themselves in forms of their choice.”

I remembered the way Mokad hissed at me when I suggested the same thing to her. «It’s better than getting tortured to death by the Empire,» Julian pointed out. But Mokad was right. Getting trapped in morph wasn’t true freedom. What had she called it? Voluntary self-extinction.

“It’s the Pool,” Julian said, walking up to Kalysico’s tank. “That’s how the Empire really controls them. Yeerks need Pools.” He rubbed two fingers against the tank, and Kalysico pressed her lips to them through the glass. “The oatmeal addicts can do without Kandrona, but that’s not really living. You and the Andalite bandits don’t have a Pool, and you can’t, because you don’t have a Kandrona generator.”

I jerked up and stared at Bachu. “But you _do_. In your _head_. Our portable Kandrona generators are several cubic meters, and only last for a few uses. Yours are _tiny_ , and they seem to stay good _forever_.” I leaned toward her. “Drop your hologram.”

Julian was thinking that maybe my request was rude, but Bachu did it. I stared at the chrome casing of her doglike head. “Kandrona shine and strengthen us,” I breathed. “You had it all along. The key to saving the Peace Movement. And you used it to kidnap Yeerks from their homes and keep them in _solitary confinement_.” A punishment so shockingly cruel to Yeerks we had no word for it, no concept. Even torture by Kandrona starvation is done in the company of other Yeerks. I remembered going with Mokad to take Estril 828 from the other android’s head and mercy-kill them. They had been in Naxes’s head for _years_ without contact with any other living being.

“I never did that,” Bachu said quietly.

“No,” said Julian. “But you knew about it. And you didn’t stop it.” I could feel him catching on. His heart started pounding, and I didn’t have it in me to slow it down. “ _Dios mio_. If they can make a Pool-sized Kandrona generator to the same scale as this one in Bachu’s head – they wouldn’t need to put it in the EMS Tower.” His eyes focused on Bachu. “You could fit it in your basement. All this time, you could have fit a rogue Yeerk Pool in your basement and you didn’t even – _madre de Dios._ ” Julian fell silent, but in his mind he remembered Estril 828 in his palm, quickly and silently drying to death after years of unspeakable torment.

“Mokad told me that your kind are pacifists,” I said into Bachu’s blank metal face. I was too absorbed to know what Julian’s face was doing, but he would take care of that. “That hasn’t stopped you from doing a grave wrong to my people. You have a chance to make it right. You can save peaceful Yeerks, like me and Mokad, the same way the Andalite bandits have helped save our hosts. We will get you blueprints for a Pool-sized Kandrona, recipes for Pool water, design specifications for a Pool, whatever you need. But you have to be willing to build it.”

The android’s chrome face revealed nothing. I don’t know how long we stared at each other like that, the android, my partner and I. It felt like a long time, in that dragging way the human mind perceives moments of significance, distorting my perception, too.

“You have reinforced a schism among us,” Bachu said, as if the androids had been debating my words for a hundred years. For all I knew of the processing power in those computer brains of theirs, maybe they had. “Most of us opposed taking Yeerks from the Pool in the first place. They disavow responsibility and refuse to take the risk of exposure that would come with housing our own Pool. They say that any of us who participate in building such a Pool endanger us all.” Bachu’s hologram snapped back into place, her broad brown face set into determined lines, her dæmon’s ears pricked. “I warn you, they will try to stop us. But there are enough of us who feel responsible. Enough of us to make it possible. Yes, Illim, Mr. Tidwell. We will build it.”

Relief thundered through Julian. He fumbled for a chair and dragged it next to Kalysico’s tank so he could sit down with her. I slowed his breath, made it steady. He opened the top of the tank, rolled back his sleeve, and plunged his hand in the water. His fingertips tickled from Kaly’s fish kisses. “Actually,” she said from the tank, “He’ll have something to drink after all.”

Bachu came back a few minutes later with a cup of tea, chamomile by the smell. Julian took it with his free hand and breathed in the steam. I reveled in the smell, letting Julian feel my enjoyment. That’s one of his favorite things about having me around, the way I appreciate things he takes for granted, and I try to give him that every chance I get.

“I think you know what you have to do for us to be able to build it.” I realized with a start that Bachu was still standing in front of us. “But do you know what you’re going to say to your people to get them to come?”

“Didn’t Mokad tell you the conditions we’re living in? They’ve only gotten worse. Why wouldn’t they come?”

“I’ve lived through many terrible regimes,” Bachu said. “People adjust to new realities. They cling to status quo over terrifying change, even when the status quo is grim. Tidwell, you must know, from your mother. Many people left Franco’s Spain, but many did not, though they could have.”

Julian nodded stiffly. His mother was one of the ones who had left. But his grandparents had stayed behind. He remembered visiting them in Madrid, always on the verge of asking why they had stayed, and never quite able to bring himself. Strangely, it made me wish I could have been with him back then, to give him the courage to learn the darkest points in their story before they died. Aloud, he said, “She left because she thought things would be better in the United States.”

“Exactly,” Bachu said. “It’s not enough for people to know how bad things are, how much it’s crushing them. They have to have hope for something better.”

“And we’re not offering them much, are we?” Julian said quietly. “Just a small Pool in the basement of a mysterious robot.”

I never have conversations out loud with Julian in front of other people, but I could do it in front of Bachu – it wouldn’t be strange to her. “No, Julian. We’re offering them more than that. Remember what Mokad told me about the world of the Iskoort? What it was like for the Yoort there? If we had our own pool, we could actually work to make that happen. A place for Yeerks to be free in our _own_ way.”

“Then tell your people about it,” Bachu said. “I was there. I saw how it affected Aftran. Revolutions have been built on less.”

“I can’t,” I said. “Not without Aftran.”

“I can pass her a message,” Bachu said. “Ask her to tell the whole story.”

“Please,” I said. “Please. You’re right. We need some hope.” I laughed bitterly, making the surface of the chamomile tea ripple. «There’s so much work to do, Julian,» I thought. «And there’s papers to grade tonight.»

Kalysico rubbed her scales against our fingers. «Julian and I will take care of that. You start thinking of what to do next.»

  


**Aftran**

“On the Iskoort world,” I said, “they don’t just use memory transfer protocols for interrogations. They use them for _fun_ , for the sheer joy of experiencing something the way another being remembers it. Memories are the most valuable commodities they buy and sell. Many Yoorts go their whole lives without ever having an Isk, and because they’ve lived through so many people’s memories, they don’t feel like they’re missing out on anything.”

The computer pinged. _Recording paused. Incoming message._ I sighed. Eva took it, so I wouldn’t have to lose the thread of my story again. I’d been trying for days to tell it, as Illim had requested, but it wasn’t easy. Not only was it like giving up a piece of my spirit for any Yeerk who heard the tale to see and wonder at, I kept getting interrupted.

Sub-Visser 201 of the Blue Bands said, “The Blade Ship has sent a shuttle. They’re requesting docking permissions.”

The last thing either Eva or I wanted right now was to deal with Visser Three or his minions. Visser Three had tried to put “Visser One” on trial for treason, but “Visser One’s” purported daring escape from a firefight with Visser Three and the Andalite bandits, and equally daring return to her Empire-class Nova ship, had allowed us to put a positive gloss on events, even if it was by no means clear to the Council which Visser deserved the credit for supposedly destroying the free Hork-Bajir colony. Visser Three was incensed that Eva and I had taken away his victory over the Andalite bandits, when he and his disgusting pet Sub-Visser had most of them in torture chambers. Without the spectacle of a trial for recourse, we were worried where his frustrations might lead him next.

«One way or another,» Eva thought, «we’re going to have to deal with him. Turning him away will only prolong the inevitable.» Out loud, she said, “Let them lock on. Have a security detail ready for me at Docking Bay Three.”

“Yes, Visser,” said Sub-Visser 201, and broke the connection.

Eva strapped on a belt with a Dracon beam holstered in it. Mercurio was big enough to wear one too, but of course he wouldn’t be able to fire it.

It would have been courteous to meet Visser Three, or whatever creatures of his he’d sent, on the bridge. There was no way we were giving him a chance at the bridge of this ship, nor were we interested in being courteous. We waited in the bare, wide-open docking bay with a full detail of Blue Bands, which barely felt like enough after all the monstrous morphs of Visser Three’s we’d seen. «Marco and the Animorphs have survived him,» Eva thought. «Both of us have survived him. We will survive him again.»

I felt him before I saw him, that mental suggestion of fear and awe. It was easier to resist now that I knew from Cassie that it was a deliberate performance put on using Alloran’s telepathic abilities. _Djafid_ , the Andalite thought-song.

Since I share my thoughts with Eva as much as possible, to keep open a two-way street, she was able to comment, «He’s just constantly thought-singing the Imperial March from Star Wars, isn’t he? Dun-dun-dun dun-DAH-dun dun-DAH-dun…»

I very nearly giggled aloud. Eva held it back but managed to keep the amused twist to her lips as Visser Three stepped out of the shuttle. I felt a sudden wave of nausea go through Eva at the sight of him. If the rumors about him severing his host Alloran were true, then Visser Three was walking around in something more than a corpse but less than an Andalite. The idea disgusted me – riding an empty shiftless mind like that, butchering a thinking being and animating the pile of meat left behind, like a zombie from a human horror movie. Was this how Esplin really believed Yeerks were meant to live?

«What do you find so amusing?» Visser Three said, glowering down at us. He was a foot taller than Eva, but she was used to that. «Still pleased about stealing your Andalite accomplices from me?»

“Ah yes,” said Eva, coolly raising an eyebrow. “Because Andalite revolutionaries are so renowned for their cooperation with Vissers.”

«Do you think I’m a fool?» Visser Three sneered. «The Andalite bandits freed the traitor Aftran 942. They collaborate with treacherous Yeerks when it suits them.»

“Which you would know, of course, since you love Andalites so very well,” Eva said.

«You accuse _me_ of host sympathy?» Visser Three glowered. «I severed this Andalite host, broke it from the inside. Meanwhile, you with your _Sharing_ have kept us from a swift and victorious war in the name of being _nice_ and _convincing_ to the humans. Humans don’t need convincing. They need to be rounded up and taken.»

“If you understood anything about humans you’d know how many weapons they have and how willing they are to – "

«So you’re afraid of humans?» Visser Three pressed. «That’s why you insist on your war of infiltration? Not because you sympathize with them? Seek to protect them?»

“Not afraid,” Eva said levelly. “Simply aware of their capabilities. And no, of course I do not sympathize with the host bodies, human or otherwise.”

«Very well, Visser One. I look forward to seeing you prove it.» He pointed a stalk eye back at his ship. «Bring him out.»

I could feel the Blue Bands tense behind me. Two of the Visser’s human-Controllers came out of the shuttle, each holding a holocam with the recording light on. Between them was a child, maybe ten years old. For a moment it seemed that he might be severed, like Alloran, but then a tiny snake head flickered out from his sleeve. He looked mixed, half East Asian, a little like Marco. _Oh no,_ Mercurio whispered silently. _Oh no._

I flinched before Eva could stop me. I recognized that boy. His face had appeared in the rush of images and feeling when Visser One had gone palp-to-palp with me, to share her life story. It was Darwin Gervais, the boy she had thought of as her son.

«That’s right,» Visser Three said smugly. «I found the boy you had with Essam’s host, when the two of you were busily betraying the Empire. So sentimentally attached, you _procreated_.» And the Visser was right. It was no light thing, for a Yeerk, to procreate. It was the most important thing in our lives, an end we willingly gave our lives to achieve.

Eva looked at the boy, stone-faced now. «He must be a Controller,» she thought. «He’d never be so calm otherwise.» Aloud, she said, “I didn’t do it out of sentiment. I did it to learn about humans, which is more than you ever managed to do. I gave him to other humans to raise. What does it matter?”

Visser Three extended his hand behind him. One of the adult human-Controllers passed him a handgun. He passed it, grip-first, to us. «If it doesn’t matter,» he said silkily, «then prove it.» Darwin stepped forward, face blank. Right in front of us. His dæmon emerged a little farther from his sleeve, pencil-thin, eyes like dull little beads. «If the boy means nothing to you, then kill him.» He pointed an eyestalk back at the human-Controllers. «This is being streamed live to the Council of Thirteen’s databanks, by the way. Send them your regards.»

Eva’s hand curled around the grip of the handgun. I could hear her mind coolly assessing the options, in a way that only this woman and her son could do when in such a grim bind. «I’ve never fired a handgun before; there’s no chance I’ll be able to get a shot in the Visser deadly enough that he can’t morph it away. His goons are recording this. If I shoot the Visser’s goons, he’ll attack. If I don’t shoot the boy, then the Council of Thirteen will see for themselves that I’m a host sympathizer. Then he can torture you to death, infest me with a new Yeerk who’ll learn all the Animorphs’ secrets, and wage open war against Earth.»

Meanwhile, Mercurio whispered, over and over, _He’s just a child. I can’t kill him. He’s just a little boy. A little boy with a snake dæmon. I can’t kill him. Oh God, oh Jesus, how can I live with myself if I kill him?_

«I’m _waiting_ , Visser One,» Visser Three jeered. All around us, both of the Vissers’ minions were watching, waiting to see what we would do.

«We have to, Mercurio,» Eva said, cold dread making her numb. «There’s no way out of this. If we don’t kill him, our secrets are out, this war is over. Marco will die. We _have_ to, Merqui.»

«No,» I said, resolve taking root in me. «No, you don’t have to. I’ll do it.» I pulled up from Eva’s mind a sweet memory, an uncomplicated one, from before she was infested: the first time she went sailing on her own, her hand at the tiller, Mercurio leaping through the water, wind and waves and ship all in perfect balance. I played it back for her in perfect detail, every sense memory of salt spray and cool water. «Stay there, Eva, Mercurio. Stay far, far away from this place.»

_Are you sure?_ Mercurio called to me from the choppy California waters.

«You have a son,» I told Mercurio. «This is too close to your heart. You can’t live with it. But no Yeerk ever lives to see their own child. None of us are parents, Mercurio. I can live with this. Let me spare you. For years, Edriss never spared you anything, not one bloody moment. I can spare you. I _want_ to. Please let me. _Stay here._ »

In his memory, Mercurio took a flying leap, spraying water against the sailboat’s hull. Then he dived deep. Both his and Eva’s thoughts were on the direction of the wind and the pull of the currents. Far away, where they should be.

I looked Darwin in his black eyes. His dæmon – Daebo, she was called – became a stork beside him and watched me with her long face. Edriss 562 had loved this boy, in her own twisted way. Darwin wouldn’t remember her, wouldn’t have known before he was infested that he had had an alien for a mother, of sorts. Somewhere behind this calm human face and cool dinosaur beak was a Yeerk desperately hoping someone would rescue him from the boy’s corpse in time for him to survive, and a boy desperately hoping that this strange woman would have mercy.

Mercy. What was mercy, in a war? Mercy was letting Karen go free. Mercy was Cassie fighting to defend me when she had every reason to let me die. Someone like Rachel might say that what I was about to do was mercy. _Better to die than live a slave,_ she would say. Personally, I thought that was a lie she and the others told themselves to feel better about all the death they dealt.

I shot the dæmon anyway.

The sound of the gun going off was deafeningly loud in the shuttle bay. Visser Three staggered back in surprise. The goons holding the holocams flinched. But they didn’t stop recording. I looked directly into the eyes of the holocams. I said, “May the Kandrona shine and strengthen you, Emperor.” The golden miasma that dæmons were made of swirled in the space where Daebo had been. The boy’s body was lifeless on the floor, intact. Visser Three’s people would be able to retrieve the Yeerk alive, if they acted quickly.

«End the recording,» Visser Three snapped. The recording lights winked out. He glowered at me. «You haven’t fooled me, Visser One. I _know_ you’re a traitor. Whatever reason you gave the Council, you stole the Andalite Bandits from me to suit your own ends.»

Eva was still lost in the memory of sailing through the Santa Barbara Harbor. She would stay there until we were away from Darwin’s corpse. “If you have any _evidence_ that that’s true,” I said sweetly, “I’m sure the Council would love to hear it.”

«There _is_ evidence of your treachery. I _will_ find it.» He gestured imperiously to his goons, who took the child’s body away to the shuttle. He followed them into it.

I turned to the Blue Bands. “Clear his departure from shuttle bay.” I threw the handgun to the floor with a clatter, turned on my heel, and went back to our private workspace. Once there, I pulled Eva out of her reverie.

«We need to prepare a statement for the Council,» I said.

«A minute,» Eva whispered. «I can smell the gun residue on my hands. I just… need a minute.» So I didn’t stop her from crouching down to embrace Mercurio, wrapping his thick barrel shape in her arms. She cried into his feathers. «We killed someone else’s baby to save mine. That isn’t right. _Santa Maria_ , it isn’t right.»

«Not we,» I said. «Me. You weren’t there.»

«I agreed with you.»

«That’s not the same. I pulled the trigger. I won’t let you tell yourself otherwise.»

Mercurio said into Eva’s ear, “Thank you, Aftran. Thank you for sparing us.”

Suddenly, Eva stiffened and pulled out of the embrace with her dæmon. « _Ay, Dios_. Madra. The other child. Where is she? Does Visser Three have her?»

«I don’t know.»

«We have to contact Bachu and find out,» Eva said. «We can’t let the same thing happen to her.»

«I don’t think now is a good time to send a suspicious transmission. It’ll have to wait, at least a little. But we’ll do it, Eva. We’ll protect Madra.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: graphic murder of a child.


	3. Tell Them Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Tell them stories. They need the truth. You must tell them true stories, and everything will be well, just tell them stories.” – from _The Amber Spyglass_ by Philip Pullman

**Tidwell**

I smiled at Freddie like a normal person, and tried to forget that I was pulling off a heist.

“Nice to see you too, Julian,” Freddie said, pronouncing it the English way, _Joo-_ lee-un. “Hey, Derane 792 wanted you to proofread these documents – you read Galard, right?”

“Yes.” I’m good at languages, if nothing else. Part of what brought me and Illim together as true friends was the excitement of learning an alien language from him, one nothing like anything on Earth. I took the briefcase from Freddie. “I’ll get it back to you next siar-rane.”

“Xe’ll owe you one,” Freddie said. His monkey dæmon pointed finger-guns at me. I hate finger-guns. “I have to get back to changing the intake filters. See you soon, man!”

A briefcase. It was just a briefcase, which I was supposed to have. Definitely not full of the latest protocols for Pool construction and maintenance.

_I can’t wait until we get Illim back,_ Kalysico moaned.

_For more reasons than one_ , I thought. Bachu said she had an important message for us from Aftran. It could be the story that Illim wanted to spread through the Peace Movement. Illim had tried to pass on to me his impressions from going palp-to-palp with Aftran, but it was third-hand, all fragments. I was curious about the adventure that had inspired her so much.

The atmosphere in the voluntary area of the Pool was a little more tense these days. There were surveillance cameras up, to prevent escapes like the one we arranged with the Andalites. Some people were grouchy on their Yeerks’ behalf about the new crackdowns. “Eslin kept me updated every rane on the new installment _The Sage in the Weeds_ ,” a woman named Xue complained to me over a coffee. “Now I’ll never find out the secret identity of the Sage, or where their Pool is.”

I nodded sympathetically. I didn’t like Xue very much – she was one of the Empire sympathizers that made up the majority of voluntaries – but I had to agree with her on that. _The Sage in the Weeds_ was cheesy as anything, but the whole idea of Pools having Sages was pretty interesting.

I glanced at my watch. It was time to reunite with Illim. I wheeled Kalysico’s tank to the infestation pier. I always hate it there. I hate seeing the dread in the faces of the involuntary hosts with me on the pier, the violence the Hork-Bajir-Controllers use to make them comply. Most of all, I hate the way I feel nothing but relief and excitement to be with Illim again, while the involuntaries are in so much pain.

I knelt at the end of the pier, grimacing at the smell of the Pool sludge like I always do, and felt the not-pain of Illim crawling into my head. «You want to tell me why Firtips isn’t in the briefcase?» I said.

«I’m not happy about it either,» Illim said grimly, walking me briskly to the stairs, tuning out the screams of the involuntaries from my awareness, the way I never could on my own. «They insisted on staying to help spread Mokad’s story through the Pool. They’re right, they have the greatest reach by word of mouth, as you humans would say. But they’re going to get killed.»

«I guess that’s their choice,» I said, hoisting Kaly’s tank up by its backpack straps. «I could get killed or worse for helping you with the Peace Movement. You know I’ve come to live with that choice. Why can’t Firtips do the same?»

«Because Firtips knows more of our oral traditions – not oral, but you know what I mean – than any other Yeerk,» Illim said, frustrated. «Some of our greatest stories may be lost forever.»

«I hope Bachu has Mokad’s story, then,» I said, catching my breath at the top of the stairs. «It looks like there’s a lot riding on telling it.»

I drove to Chee-bachu’s house, feeling like I was getting away with something. I was, of course. Illim and I had been bucking Empire law for over a year now. But there was nothing quite like having restricted documents in a briefcase I wasn’t supposed to have. It was very Cold War spy movie.

«You know, I of all people should have known you secretly wanted to be a hero from one of those ridiculous spy movies,» Illim said. «But somehow, I didn’t.»

I rang the doorbell of Bachu’s house and thought at Illim in a Sean Connery accent, «I’ve reached the drop point, Q.»

Bachu ushered me in. “Do you mind if we do this in the basement?”

I don’t like dogs very much, though I try not to say so in front of the Chee. They’re smelly and I hate when they jump on me and try to lick me. But she wouldn’t ask if she didn’t have a reason. «It’s probably security,» Illim said. «It’s like a fortress down there.»

Bachu seemed to have noticed my feelings about dogs, because when we took the elevator down to her ridiculous dog park bunker, she intercepted all the excited dogs that came bounding up to us. Illim still had to suppress my flinch at all the barking, though.

“I have the plans for the Pool,” I said, passing the briefcase to Bachu.

“Let me know if there’re any gaps we need to fill in,” Illim added.

Bachu took the briefcase and gestured to a tree stump. “Have a seat.”

I sat, feeling like a character in a kids’ cartoon show. I opened Kaly’s tank and trailed my fingers through the water, letting my dæmon weave between them.

“I have a message from Aftran,” Bachu said. “The one you’ve been hoping for, I think. But there’s another part of the message we need to discuss first.”

Bachu played back Mokad’s voice the way she always did, distorted to remove any identifying features from her host’s voice. I thought the paranoia was a bit much given how many hosts there are – what were the odds Illim or I would recognize her? – but Illim approved of Bachu’s caution.

“ _Bzzzhhh_ ’s son is dead. Visser Three went after him.” Even in that flat featureless voice, I could hear the grief and regret. “I should have expected him to go after hosts’ children too, but somehow it never occurred to me. _Bzzzhhh_ ’s daughter, _Shzzzzk_ , is in danger. Please, find a way to protect her.” The voice cut off. Silence fell.

“The children,” Illim whispered, voice flat with disbelief. “Everyone in the Peace Movement we’re trying to get out. Their children are in danger.”

I couldn’t read Illim’s mind the way he could read mine, but I knew what he was thinking. Many of the Peace Movement Yeerks I knew thought of their hosts’ children as their own. It was only natural. Yeerks never lived to see their own children, so they raised the children of others. And no Peace Movement Yeerk would flee to our rogue Pool if they thought it would put their adoptive children in the line of fire.

“Do you think,” I said slowly, “we could put the children… wherever the Andalites took the freed hosts?” I still wished I could go there, check and see how they were doing. Bachu gave us reports, but it wasn’t the same as really knowing they were safe and well.

“Maybe,” Bachu said. “I’ll make inquiries.”

“This can’t be a maybe,” Illim said. “I can’t in good conscience take any Yeerk whose host has children unless I can guarantee their children’s safety.”

“I can’t make guarantees, Illim,” Bachu said firmly. “It’s not up to me. But I’ll try.”

“Okay,” I said, steering the ship away from choppy waters. “Thank you, Bachu. I think we’re ready to hear Mokad’s story now.”

Bachu paused. “Would you like me to read it for you? I can’t safely lower the distortion on Aftran’s voice, but this seems like the kind of thing that should have feeling in it. Inflection. I think I could do it justice. After all, I was there.”

What Illim wanted was to hear the story exactly the way Aftran had told it, I could tell. Kaly told him out loud, “Illim. Mokad has her reasons.”

Illim said, “All right. You read it.”

Bachu dropped her hologram and projected an image of Aftran floating in the air in front of her – Aftran herself, not in a host body. Illim reached for her, then dropped my hand. Bachu made her voice come from the projection. “Out in the far reaches of the galaxy, there is a planet called Garzh. The planet is mostly polluted and barren, so the people live in towers miles high. The planet is a crossroads, a trade center, home to hundreds of species. And one of those species is called Yoort.”

It was a fascinating story. It lit my mind on fire, thinking about all the ways I could live openly as a friend and partner to a Yeerk, on a planet where that was normal. I could tell my friends about Illim. I could _have_ friends without worrying the Empire would target them. Illim could take a turn with an Isk who knew another language, pick up the language from their brain, and teach it to me from inside my head. Illim could take breaks outside my head in a Pool that actually made him happy, and I could be alone in my head for a little while without the fear and paranoia of being in the Pool.

And then there was everything about Mokad working with the Andalite bandits. I’d known already that the Andalite bandits had rescued Mokad – everyone at the Pool saw it. But that didn’t really mean they were allies. On Garzh, the planet of the Iskoort, though, Mokad had helped them win against their terrible enemy, the Howlers. They’d even _morphed Yoort_ to rescue Bachu – who she’d called Delia in the story, as if she were really human – even though Illim had always told me they saw Yeerks as the worst kind of vermin. Mokad clearly only got along well with one of the Andalites, a female bandit she considered a friend, but all of them, including Mokad, had been on the same team.

But Illim’s reaction to the story was devastation. At first I wasn’t sure why. He’d gotten the facts already, though in a fragmented sort of way. And Mokad’s story was exciting, a vision of hope. Not just a world where Yeerks could be something more than slavers, but one where they could cooperate with other species as equals, even with Andalites. Then Mokad herself talked about everything the Yeerks could have one day, could have had already if they had chosen a different path, and I understood her and Illim’s disillusionment and regret. The Empire had promised to lift Yeerks to glory, to the place and power in the galaxy that was their birthright—promised that spacefaring Yeerks would be a shining light, an inspiration to those still in their dingy pools on the homeworld. But instead it had replaced their culture and their pride with brutality, and stolen away everything that could have truly made them great.

Illim was devastated, and inside my head, he had none of his usual ways to show it. So even though he wasn’t controlling my body at the moment, just using my ears to listen, I cried for him. I opened myself to his pain and let the tears fall.

  


**Toby**

The first order of business for the day’s circle was the message from the homeworld.

"Our friends have arrived at the homeworld with Quafijinivon and Chee-koril," I told the eager circle of my people. "The Yeerks were suspicious when they first approached the planet, but Chee-koril did an excellent impression of a Yeerk pilot and got them through. Our friends are now in the Deep with Quafijinivon. Koril will continue to send us messages through their Chee friends Luis and Lourdes, who we have come to know well."

The circle stomped feet in approval. The father of Maka, one of the Hork-Bajir who had gone on the expedition, said, "Maka and others are well?"

"Yes," I said. "Apparently Maka didn't like the dried bark rations on the ship, but she finds Father Deep not as frightening as she'd thought he'd be."

The circle stomped again. Maka's father pressed his forehead blades to his _dhalashi_ ’s, and his _dhalashi_ closed his eyes in relief. I took more questions from the loved ones of the Hork-Bajir who'd gone. Finally I said, "Are we ready for the humans to join us?"

I watched the _hrala_ orbit the circle as my people thumped tails to take the count. Everyone was on the same beat.

I gestured to Tak Shipa, who went to fetch the humans. The one named Julie looked serene, her colorful snake dæmon looped loosely around her neck. She was the new-frees' envoy – the new-frees who had been allied with the Yeerks, anyway. Melissa had a notebook, her butterfly dæmon resting on its spine; she was to be the secretary for the meeting. Ruby was there too, her beetle dæmon shining in her hair, the only human living in Kref Magh who wasn't a new-free.

"We invited you here to discuss two matters that concern both our people," I said. "One of them you already know. The other is new, a message passed to me through the Chee. We will listen and consider what you have to say on both of these matters. I only ask that you speak so that my people can understand you: slow, clear, and simple. Few of my people are fluent in English. Do you agree?"

The humans nodded.

“That won’t work,” I said. “My people don’t nod to show we agree or approve. We stomp our feet to approve, and when we vote, we thump our tails in rhythm. Everyone on the beat agrees, anyone who thumps off-beat does not.”

Julie nodded slowly, then started clapping her hands in a steady beat. Ruby and Melissa looked at her. Ruby started clapping on the beat, and Melissa tapped her pen against the spine of her notebook.

I smiled. “Now you get it.” I turned to the circle. “First, we need to talk about Tom Berenson. Melissa, would you like to tell the circle what happened?”

Melissa bit her lip. “Tom attacked Jamal. He hurt him. Meret had to step in to make him stop.”

Silence fell across the circle. My people had come to Kref Magh to escape violence. Violence done to us. Blood on our blades, our natural gifts to husband the trees, twisted for violence by the Yeerks who enslaved us. Hearing that violence had come to Kref Magh was not an easy thing for anyone.

“We have managed to have peace in Kref Magh since the beginning,” I said. “That has changed. We need to decide what to do to stop any more fighting from happening here.”

Fal Tagut stepped into the circle. “No fighting before humans. No humans in Kref Magh, no fighting.”

The people set to muttering. Their tails drummed in a total chaos that meant disagreement was rife. Julie raised her voice above the din, not a scream, but low and ringing like a thunderclap. “We have nowhere else to go!” That cut through the noise enough to quiet it down. Julie repeated, “We have nowhere else to go. And anyway, Tom isn’t well. Haven’t any of your new-frees been unwell? I know they have. I’ve talked to Dref Fakash.”

My father stepped into the circle. “Jara’s friend Jotoo Tashir attack Jara before he die.”

I turned and stared at my father. “I didn’t know about this.”

He ducked his head. “Jara not want to make Toby angry. Jotoo was sick. Sick in head because of Yeerk. Hurt bad. Did not know what he did."

I knew what happened to Jotoo. Before we freed him, he was like any Hork-Bajir-Controller, suffering under the horrible broken knot of Yeerk- _hrala_ in his head, like a ball of barbed wire entangled in his own _hrala._ After we freed him, he was badly damaged enough in mind and body that we couldn't save him. It didn't happen as often as it might have, because of Hork-Bajir regenerative abilities, but he had been neither the first nor the last. What I hadn't known – what none of us had known, I gathered – was that he'd lashed out at my father in his suffering.

My father looked at Fal. "Not humans. Not Hork-Bajir. Hurt come from hurt. Jotoo attack Jara because of pain from Yeerk. Tom attack Jamal because of pain from Yeerk."

Elgat stepped into the circle. “Jara right. Tom need help, like all new-frees need help. We keep Tom away from other new-frees until Tom feel better.”

I looked to the humans. “What do you think?”

Julie said, “I love Jamal. I won’t lie, I hate that Tom hurt him. But he’s stuck here, like the rest of us. And I’m a social worker. A mind-healer, like Elgat Kar. I’ve had patients like Tom, boys who lash out at people without really meaning to. He needs help, and that’s what he’s getting from the Chee, as far as I can tell. If the Hork-Bajir promise to keep him away from the rest of us until he’s ready, then I feel safe enough.”

Melissa nodded, then remembered that wasn’t enough to show agreement. “Me too.”

“I still want to see him,” Ruby said. “He’s never been mean to me, just… strange. But I guess I’m not a new-free.”

I raised my voice. “Do the people consent?”

The people drummed agreement with their tails, Julie and Melissa and Ruby by clapping. The people watched them clap in fascination. The scales on our hands mute the impact; we can make nothing but a dull thud by clapping our hands together.

“We will move Tom to the northern end of Kref Magh, away from the other new-frees, tomorrow,” I announced. “He is to stay at the northern end until we decide otherwise. If you see him go south of here, the meeting place, turn him back.”

Melissa scratched notes quickly with her pen, then looked up at me and waited. This was the new part, what no one else in the valley had heard yet. “I have a message from the Yeerk Peace Movement,” I said. “The ones who sent the new-frees to us. They have thirty more humans who they are trying to move out. Kref Magh is the only place they can go. We must decide whether to take more new-frees into the valley.”

Everyone started talking heatedly. Except for the humans, who seemed shocked to silence. I tried to bring about some order. “Talk among yourselves. I want to hear all the circle-stories. Another thing, though, before you begin. The message said that some of the refugees are not new-frees, but their children. These children are in danger because their parents’ Yeerks are in the Peace Movement. If they don’t come here, they may die, or be enslaved.”

Julie turned to me and said, “What’s a circle-story?”

“We Hork-Bajir like to say that every circle has stories to tell,” I explained. “Not just the stories of people in the circle, but the circle itself. When the people come together, the stories are different than if all of us were separate. Sometimes for a circle to come to a decision, we have to hear its stories. What my people are doing now is talking to each other and choosing those of us who can tell the stories of what this circle believes and how it wishes to act. When they’re done, representatives will come forward and tell those stories. Then we will decide.”

“Can we tell a circle-story?” Julie asked.

“Certainly,” I said. “If you can find one among yourselves.”

My mother drew me into a group of people discussing their fears about the new-frees who loved their Yeerks, and what it would mean for us if more humans like them came to the valley. Many of them looked at me as they spoke, but I added nothing, mindful of the weight of my words. I might have been the Seer, but that didn’t mean my opinions were more important than theirs. I wanted them to feel free to say what they thought without worrying whether I disagreed.

The talking went long enough that there was a shift change, some people coming in from gathering bark or tending the creches and others leaving to tend to those essentials. People gathered around their chosen storytellers. Even the humans had attached themselves to a Hork-Bajir storyteller, which pleased me. I saw that one of the storytellers was Elgat Kar, which didn’t surprise me. I gestured her into the circle.

“Kref Magh is healing place,” Elgat said. “We make _hrala_ here. New-frees come to Kref Magh, hurt by Yeerks, heal with Hork-Bajir, get better. Some new-frees still in Yeerk Pool, inside. Forget they are free, they not need Yeerk, not owe Yeerk.” She gestured toward Melissa and Julie. “Yeerk friends bad for Hork-Bajir new-frees. Bad for human new-frees, like Tom. Yeerk friends love Yeerk. Bad for new-frees who hate Yeerk. Bad for new-frees still in Yeerk Pool, here.” She thumped her chest. Next to her, I saw two people who I recognized as having been among the new-frees who had been confused when they first came here, who’d had Stockholm syndrome, as humans would call it.

I saw that Elgat’s words had made Melissa and Julie uneasy, their dæmons hiding under their hair. It should. Elgat was not wrong. Their presence here was a provocation to some new-frees, and a setback to the recovery of others.

I stomped my foot. “Thank you for telling the circle-story, Elgat Kar.” The rest of the circle stomped and thanked her too. I gave the humans a hard stare until they joined in, stomping and thanking Elgat.

Rej Hullan, the oldest Hork-Bajir in Kref Magh, stepped into the circle next. “Kref Magh is place most like home,” she said. “In Yeerk Pool, we live wrong. Slaves. Far from trees. Fighting.” She held up her wrist blades, notched from battle, for the circle to see. “Hork-Bajir must go home. Home with no Yeerk. Live as Hork-Bajir. Kref Magh not home, but like home. Trees, _hrala_ , elders, Seer. Many humans, many Yeerk friends, Kref Magh become like Yeerk Pool. Not like home.”

I stomped. “Thank you for telling the circle-story, Rej Hullan.” It took only a brief significant look to the humans this time to get them to join in. Then they looked to the storyteller they’d attached themselves to: none other than Bek Mashar, the one the Animorphs had helped rescue as a child, now just grown into his adult height. I had to admit I was surprised to see the humans finding their circle-story in this Hork-Bajir, who had suffered badly at the hands of humans.

I gestured Bek into the circle. “Kref Magh on Earth,” he said. “Human place. Now Hork-Bajir place too. Humans mean. Bad. Take Bek to bad place. But Hork-Bajir need human friends. Need to teach humans. Need human teachers. Only way to know human place, live in human place.”

And with that, I understood why the humans stood with him. He was young, and could see a different path forward for my people. I stomped my foot. “Thank you for telling the circle-story, Bek Mashar.”

The largest group was gathered around Ghat Hefrin and Dref Fakash. I gestured them into the circle. Only Ghat spoke, of course, but the tip of her tail twined with Dref’s as he traced _hrala_ currents through the air with his fingers. “Ghat and Dref have _kawatnoj_ , back in Pool. Still slave of Yeerks. Many Hork-Bajir have _kawatnoj_ back in Pool.” All around her, Hork-Bajir stomped their feet in agreement. “All must be free. Hork-Bajir, human. But we – “ She gestured around at the circle. “We in Pool too, never _kawatnoj_. Always slave to Yeerk. We remember. We know _kawatnoj_ – human, Hork-Bajir – need freedom most.” Ghat glanced at me. “Toby say that humans have _kawatnoj_. With no Kref Magh, they become slave. Like Hork-Bajir _kawatnoj_. Yeerk friend or no Yeerk friend, humans have _kawatnoj_. Free, like Toby. Stay free, here in Kref Magh.”

The people spontaneously started thumping their tails. More and more joined on the beat. I did, too.Some Hork-Bajir still thumped off the beat, all of them standing with Elgat and Rej. I thought I might be able to address their concerns.

I stepped into the circle. “Here is my story. More human new-frees come to Kref Magh with _kawatnoj_. The humans stay at the southern end of the valley, as they have done. They do not cross north of here, the meeting rock. Any Hork-Bajir who wish to keep clear of the human new-frees simply keep their activities north of the meeting rock. Hork-Bajir new-frees are kept away from the human new-frees until they are well enough to speak with them without becoming confused or upset – Elgat and her healing circle will decide when that is. _Kawatnoj_ , human and Hork-Bajir, are allowed to go wherever they like. They are free. Human and Hork-Bajir stay apart when they need their own kind most, but they also learn to live together.”

Now almost all of my people were thumping on the beat, Rej’s followers whispering to each other and changing their votes. The humans clapped in time, their eyes wet. A strange human reaction, but I knew what it meant. We had voted as a people to save their people’s children. Which was more than any species had ever done for us.

I looked around the circle of consensus among my people, and wondered if we would come to regret our decision one day. So few of our encounters with other species had gone well for us. But even with all the pain and suffering he went through at Andalite hands, my ancestor Dak Hamee did not regret welcoming Aldrea-Iskillion-Falan into his life. My mentor Tobias was profoundly grateful for the presence of Ax, an Andalite, in his family.

I looked up from the circle where we all clapped in time. _Hrala_ swirled up from the circle in a mighty vortex, stronger than anything I’d seen from a meeting of Hork-Bajir alone. Elgat and I had noticed it at her new-free circles, too. One of the stories we’d managed to salvage from the homeworld told about this. Hork-Bajir from different clans coming together to tell stories produced more _hrala_ than any clan alone, so long as the encounter ended in peace. People on different paths, intersecting for a time, without war. Maybe the stories were true. Maybe we could make it happen, too.

  


**Illim**

I didn’t have much time in the Pool, and I had a long story to tell. I went to Firtips first. Better to tell it palp to palp, the way our ancestors did, than through the terminals.

When I was done, feeling proud and hollowed out all at once, Firtips said, “This is what inspired you to become a leader in the Peace Movement.”

“Yes.”

“It’s why Mokad was able to work with the Andalite bandits to make her escape.”

“Yes.”

“Your storytelling technique is terrible.”

“Thanks,” I said dryly.

“Well, I can hardly blame you, when storytelling isn’t a skill they teach to grubs anymore,” Firtips said. “The story is important to you. It makes you feel something. It changed your life. That’s what really matters. I’ll just take that spark of power you gave it, and tell it better.”

  


The second Yeerk I sought out was Derane 971, who was undecided about the tenets of the Peace Movement, but could be trusted to keep quiet out of loyalty to the four siblings of their spawning who were dedicated members of the movement – one of them had already died so his host could go free, and 971 didn’t want to lose any more. They resented the Peace Movement for putting their siblings in danger, but they would never do anything to make their situation more precarious. I wanted to know what someone who didn’t agree with me yet would think.

When I was done, they said, “Yeerks choosing to – to genetically _neuter_ themselves! That can’t possibly have really happened.”

I had expected this answer. I was ready. “It is true. But whether it is or not – it’s getting a reaction out of you, isn’t it?”

“Reaction is right,” Derane muttered. “Wait until we get the reaction from the Vissers. This is the most heretical story I’ve ever heard. If they find out you started this…”

“I didn’t start it,” I replied. “Mokad did. Tell that to anyone who asks.” I swam on.

  


I wasn’t sure who I should talk to next, so I just rode the current until I was greeted by a grub from the recent Mielan spawn. I felt guilty for getting such a young Yeerk involved in a dangerous subversive movement, but the Mielan grub had been very insistent.

“What’s new, Illim?” they said, wriggling to stay stable in the current.

“I’ve been going around telling a story,” I said.

“Oooh! Getting around the new bans, huh? That’s so cool! Can I hear it?” they said. And how could I resist a child who was excited to hear a story in a Pool where they were barely allowed to hear them anymore?

By the time I finished, Mielan was trembling with excitement. “Wow! Buying someone else’s memories, can you _imagine_? Art made out of electricity! Yeerks who can be masters of commerce! Illim, this is the most amazing thing I’ve _ever heard_!”

Hope. Excitement. I tried to remember when I’d ever felt those things as a child. Mostly it had been about the first time I’d get to infest a host. The thought made me sick now. Mielan’s excitement was pure. Innocent. It didn’t demand the suffering of others to thrive.

I’ve told a lot of people about Mokad’s journey to the planet of the Iskoort. The Mielan child was the most important of them all. If the human hosts’ children could be saved, then couldn’t our children be saved too? Couldn’t they grow up in a place where they could become masters of commerce and painters of electric art instead of slavers and torturers?

«They could,» Julian told me later, when I was back in his head. «If we can get the Andalites to help. But will they care about Yeerk children the same way they do human ones?»

I replied, «Maybe Mokad would say they can. But I don’t know, Julian. I just don’t know.»


	4. More Than True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has like a dozen easter eggs for the Yeerk-obsessed fans among you. Enjoy.
> 
> “Fairy tales are more than true – not because they tell us dragons exist, but because they tell us dragons can be beaten.” – G.K. Chesterton, by way of Neil Gaiman

Encrypted chat logs from Yeerk Pools are some of our most valuable documents from the Empire era. While in-person communication could be observed and monitored by agents of the Visserarchy, Yeerks could converse freely through the Pool intranet if they were careful about their encryption protocols. For unhosted Yeerks in particular, this was the best way to do something that appeared perfectly innocent – uplinking to the Pool terminals – while secretly communicating beyond the reach of censorship. During the Empire era, virtual spaces blossomed in a way traditional forms of communication and culture could not.

Some context is required to understand the following document, especially for other species. The multimedia text below is available in its original Empire-era electroceptive speech, a simplification of the sonar-electric language Yeerks use in natural speech, as well as unavoidably approximate translations into Galard and English. This particular chatroom, for lack of a better word outside of Yeerkish, was frequented by the Grash Akdap Pool’s branch of the Yeerk Peace Movement. It was scrupulously encrypted by Peace Movement hackers, constantly updated in answer to the Empire’s attempts to circumvent their security protocols.

To protect their identities, Yeerks using encrypted chatrooms went by aliases, many of them drawn from censored epics, in defiance of the Empire’s edicts. Their aliases were accompanied by flags that marked their host status. A key to the most common of these flags follows.

  


[U] Unhosted

[H] Human host

[T] Taxxon host

[G] Gedd host

  


You may notice that Hork-Bajir hosts are not among the most common flags, even though they were common hosts at that time. Hork-Bajir were virtually unknown among Peace Movement hosts, for reasons reviewed in Module 2 of this history.

Another feature of Yeerk Pool chat services was what from Yeerkish would translate as “feel-fields,” the equivalent of “grashtuu” in Galard and “emoji” in Japanese and English. Rather than attempt to illustrate visual emoji in the non-electroceptive versions of this chat log, I have instructed my translator colleagues to include textual descriptions to capture the emotional content of the originals.

The excerpt below, edited to remove extraneous messages, is from the four rane immediately following the dissemination of Aftran 942’s original account of the Iskoort world, brought to the Grash Akdap Pool by Iniss 799, better known by his alias, Illim. By this point, the chatroom had been called the Mokad Plisam Pool for quite some time, but the name suddenly took on much greater significance. Mokad was Aftran 942’s alias, taken from an old epic about a folk hero who ended a great war between the Yeerks and the Gedd (the upcoming history _Life of the Pre-Contact Pools_ will provide more details on the historical antecedents.) Plisam is the Galard rendering of a Yeerkish word meaning the spot in the Pool where the liquid is clearest and the Kandrona shines through most brightly.

Finally, I would be remiss as a historian if I did not mention that I myself am a part of this historical document. My knowledge of the traditional folkways of the homeworld Pools was considered dangerous by the Visserarchy, and my role in the dissemination of Mokad’s story put me at great risk. In the Grash Akdap Pool’s branch of the Resistance, I was known as Firtips. You will see my alias here.

– Foreword by Eslin 825

  


  


**[U] AkdorsWorstNightmare**

[ _Emoji of a Yeerk fighting the current to stay in one place. Implies decisiveness, firmness, making a point_ ] I think the story is true. Think about it. If we strip away our assumptions about what Yeerks are supposed to be, we are the ideal species for an interplanetary hub of commerce. We can adopt anyone’s ways, learn anyone’s language. Of course our primary trade would be in memories. Memories are our lifeblood, whether they’re the Pool’s traditions or a host’s recollections. No one’s ever imagined anything like this Iskoort planet, but now that I’ve heard about it, it makes sense in a way nothing in the Empire really does.

  


**[U] SeerowsHeir**

[ _Emoji indicating agreement_ ]

  


**[H] TheSageintheWeeds**

What is this story everyone’s talking about in here? I haven’t heard any new stories lately.

  


**[U] Janath**

@TheSageintheWeeds Get with the program. Message a poolie and arrange a meetup so you can hear the story directly. Quick, before it’s time to go home to your meatsuit. [ _Emoji of a Yeerk wrapped so tightly around their host’s brain that they can’t let go. Often used by unhosted Yeerks to imply hosted Yeerks are out of touch_ ]

  


**[G] Madra**

@Janath Can you please not call hosts meatsuits? We’ve discussed about a million times in here why that’s not acceptable behavior. Hosties don’t call poolies losers for being unhosted, poolies don’t talk trash about our hosts.

  


**[U] Bandit**

I don’t think it’s true. The other species hate us. They always have. How could there be so many people willing to be our Isk, or whatever they were called?

  


**[U] SeerowsHeir**

Just because the Andalites hate us doesn’t mean all species have to hate us forever.

  


**[U] AkdorsWorstNightmare**

And are we sure all Andalites hate us, anyway? That female bandit in the story was really good friends with Mokad. They trusted each other. And the other Andalites weren’t Mokad’s friends, but they treated her like an ally.

  


**[H] TheSageintheWeeds**

Andalites being friends with Yeerks? Now I HAVE to go hear this story.

  


**[U] SeerowsHeir**

Laying aside the question of whether Andalites all hate us. The species besides the Andalites hate us because we started it. Have you heard the stories from @Firtips about Gedd clans that cooperated with Yeerks on the homeworld?

  


**[U] Bandit**

We don’t know that those are true either. No one’s had contact with the homeworld since the Andalites blockaded it.

  


**[U] SeerowsHeir**

Are you saying @Firtips is lying?

  


**[U] Firtips**

There’s no need to defend me, @SeerowsHeir. @Bandit is right. We have no way of knowing if the stories are true. But it’s not the point of stories to be true, at least not in the way that you mean. The point is not to describe events exactly as they unfolded. It’s to deliver meaning. And I think the Peace Movement has found a lot of meaning in Mokad’s story.

  


**[U] Visser3Gashad**

Not just the Peace Movement. I was just added to this chat last rane. Never considered myself in agreement with you host-lovers until I heard that story. It made me rethink a lot of things. Like Visser 3’s criminal incompetence. About how we could achieve true power and independence as a species.

  


**[U] Janath**

[ _Emoji indicating agreement_ ] Exactly. I’ve never interacted with another species beyond the five minutes I spent in a Gedd body during basic training. Frankly, I don’t want to be friends or partners with aliens. I want to live on our homeworld, on our terms, with no Andalites or anyone else telling us what to do or how to live. If we lived like the Yoort, trading in memories and helping other species make deals, we wouldn’t need to prove ourselves to the Andalites. We wouldn’t need to live in cramped dingy pools on alien worlds that hate us. Everyone else would come to us, instead of us going to them.

  


**[G] Madra**

And it would be much more beneficial to other species, whether they decide to be Isk or not. For those of us who aren’t so cynical about interspecies relations. [ _Emoji of a Yeerk going palp-to-palp with a Gedd (even though Gedds do not have palps and this is in fact physically impossible.) Indicates solidarity with hosts._ ]

  


**[U] Visser3Gashad**

I mean, think about it. We’ve all heard how much Visser 3 loves Andalites. You’d think he wanted to be an Andalite himself. If it’s true that Mokad managed to make Andalite allies, why didn’t Visser 3 at least try?

  


**[U] PeaceMovementPatrol**

[ _Alert emoji_ ] Announcement: Known Empire spies spotted eavesdropping on conversations near the infestation pier. Exercise caution in this sector of the Pool.

  


**[U] AkdorsWorstNightmare**

I agree, but all of this is long-term stuff. In the short-term, what I’m most concerned about is our children. The Mielan spawning, and more recently the Shapdak spawning.

  


[ _A flurry of agreement emojis from nearly every Yeerk in the chatroom._ ]

  


**[U] Visser3Gashad**

With this new censorship, they’re growing up without any traditions from the homeworld! We might as well call them slugs instead of Yeerks! Imagine, a whole generation totally indoctrinated as good little soldiers of Empire. It makes me sick.

  


**[H] FilshigTraitor**

I wish we could take them away from this place. Raise them as young Yeerks should be raised. Proud of themselves, in harmony with other species.

  


**[T] Derane0**

And I wish we could all teleport to Mokad’s Iskoort world. But neither of those things is going to happen. Leaving the Pool is a death sentence for all of us. It’s not like we’re going to find Pool sludge or Kandrona rays anywhere else.

  


**[H] FilshigTraitor**

Not to mention a death sentence for our hosts. And their families.

  


**[U] HackersVeleek**

[ _Alert emoji_ ] Hello everyone! Just a reminder that the chat will be down for an Earth hour on siar-rane as we update the encryption protocols to keep up with the Visserarchy’s latest workarounds.

  


**[U] SulpNiar**

Thank you for all of your hard work, @HackersVeleek. [ _Emoji indicating approval_ ]

  


**[G] Grr’rnrHerder**

Speaking of the Visserarchy, have they reacted to the story at all? Their spies must have heard it by now.

  


**[T] Derane0**

Nothing official, but I heard Sub-Visser Thirty-Two screaming at her underlings to track down everyone spreading it around. Bet she can feel the bite of Visser Three’s tail-blade at her neck. [ _Emoji of Visser Three, unhosted, wearing a fake set of stalk eyes and a bladed tail, like a human Halloween costume. A favorite emoji for mocking Visser Three._ ]

__

**[H] Illim**

[ _Alert emoji_ ] Hello everyone. If I may have your attention, I have an important announcement.

  


**[U] SulpNiar**

[ _Emoji indicating surprise_ ] Oh dapsen! It’s the Yeerk of the hour!

  


**[G] Grr’rnrHerder**

@Illim I heard you were the one who got the story from Mokad. How did you reach her? Where is she?

  


**[U] GenerationFreedom**

Everyone, shut up! Let @Illim talk!

  


**[H] Illim**

I just backread the chat for the last rane, and you’ve all been having some great discussions. I’m happy to say that I am able to address one of the Peace Movement’s most important concerns right now. I have access to an alternate Kandrona source.

  


[ _An explosion of surprise emojis from the entire chatroom._ ]

  


**[G] Grr’rnrHerder**

HOW?!?!?!?!?!

  


**[T] Derane0**

@Illim, you had better not be screwing with us right now.

  


**[H] Illim**

It’s real. I tested it out myself. Just as nourishing as the one here.

  


**[U] GenerationFreedom**

Please, @Illim, tell me you can get us out of this hellhole. Every rane I feel like it’s going to be my last.

  


**[U] FightingEveryRane**

More important: can we get the children out of here? This pool is no place to be a grub. I’m on creche duty, and every rane is a struggle.

  


**[H] Illim**

I hear you. I can’t guarantee I can evacuate everyone out right away, but I’ll prioritize the children and Yeerks who can care for them and teach them. And some technicians for maintenance of the rogue Pool.

  


**[U] Margoth**

A rogue Pool. Filshig dapsen. [ _Emoji of a Yeerk illuminated by a bright ray of Kandrona. Indicates physical and spiritual nourishment._ ] Can we name it the same as this chat? The Mokad Plisam Pool? I can’t think of anything more fitting for such a thing.

  


**[H] Illim**

Hah. I can just imagine Mokad’s reaction.

  


**[H] VanarxHunter**

What about our hosts? If we get evacuated, can you take them to safety like you did with the Martyred Five’s hosts?

  


**[H] Illim**

Yes. And this time I can offer refuge to their families as well.

  


**[H] VanarxHunter**

[ _Emoji indicating admiration_ ] @Illim, you’re a miracle worker. How do you do it?

  


**[H] Illim**

I really can’t divulge details, only that the Andalite bandits provide assistance.

  


**[U] Margoth**

The bandits are going to help? So Mokad really is allied with them.

  


**[T] Derane0**

Those of us with non-human partners are still stuck here, then?

  


**[H] Illim**

I’m afraid so. Yeerks are small and can pass through Gleet BioFilters. Gedds and Taxxons we can’t smuggle out undetected.

  


**[T] Derane0**

Vanarxes take us all. The Taxxons deserve so much better than their lot. One day I hope they get their chance at something more.

  


**[G] Eftrof**

And those of us in the Peace Movement who stay behind? What becomes of us? How do we communicate with this rogue Pool?

  


**[H] Illim**

I will stay behind with you. I will pay visits to the rogue Pool regularly, of course, and pass along the word. Other Yeerks with human partners who wish to stay together will also stay behind, I imagine. They can also pass word to the Pool through our spymaster.

  


**[U] Velger**

Where is this rogue Pool?

  


**[H] Illim**

I can’t reveal that, sorry. It’s too dangerous. The location of the Pool must remain top secret.

  


**[U] Velger**

Then how do we know you’re not leading us into danger? I’d like a little more assurance.

  


**[H] Illim**

I am leading you into danger. I can’t guarantee the escape will go off without a hitch. I’m not going to lie to you. I can only offer you a chance at freedom from the Empire. And those of you with human partners can meet with me outside of the Pool, and I will show you some information about the Pool that I think will ease your minds. You can then share what you think of my information with this chat.

  


**[H] VanarxHunter**

I’ll take you up on that, @Illim.

  


**[U] FightingEveryRane**

[ _Alert emoji_ ] I’m back, chat. Urgent news. Firtips was just captured by Sub-Visser Thirty-Two. She’s going to make an example of them. She’s breaking out that pain-pleasure torture box Sub-Visser Fifty-one helped develop. This is going to be ugly, folks.

  


[ _Emojis of dismay and fear from the chatroom._ ]

  


**[H] Deinfestation**

I hate that Sub-Visser Fifty-one! I saw her torturing the Andalite bandits in the community center. And that human boy Visser Three was so riled up about a while back, she was tormenting him too! That was the moment I went over to the Peace Movement, in my inner self. I realized we were all more than halfway to becoming torturers like her ourselves. I cut the power in the community center and let them go free. She’s a monster, and our children will become monsters like her if we don’t do something.

  


**{G] Grr’rnrHerder**

@Deinfestation is right. We can’t let them use Sub-Visser Fifty-one’s torture devices on Firtips. I’m sick inside just thinking about it.

  


**[G] Eftrof**

Oh. This is such a terrible loss. All of those beautiful traditional epics from the homeworld, gone with them. I don’t know what to say. [ _Emoji of a Yeerk alone, in the dark. Indicates spiritual starvation, total despair._ ]

  


**[U] Margoth**

@Illim, is there anything you can do? The Andalite bandits rescued Mokad, didn’t they? Is there any chance they would come for Firtips?

  


**[H] Illim**

I don’t know. But I hope so, @Margoth. Kandrona shine and strengthen us, I hope so.

  


**Illim**

I parked down the street from Bachu’s house, not wanting to draw too much attention to it with our frequent visits. Julian hated driving – it made him nervous – but once we were out of the car he took over walking, pulling Kaly’s wheeled tank behind him. When we got there, he noticed that only Bachu’s car was in the driveway. Then he felt immediately embarrassed. _What did I think, that the Andalite bandits were going to drive here?_

«It’s okay,» I said. «I have no idea what to expect either.» All I knew was that “all of the stakeholders will meet here,” as Bachu put it. All of them except Mokad and her mysterious partner, who were off doing whatever espionage they did.

Julian gave the doorbell a tentative push. To our great surprise, Melissa Chapman answered it. “Oh! Mr. Tidwell, hi!” Julian noticed that she looked good. Her hair was duller, her clothes were plainer, and there seemed to be dirt embedded in her fingernails, but her dæmon fluttered around her head in easy circles. She gestured him in. “Now we can get started.”

«Guess we were the last to show up,» Julian commented. Out loud he said, “How are you doing, Melissa? I’ve heard updates from Bachu, but I haven’t seen any of you since you were evacuated from the Pool.”

“We’re fine,” Melissa said, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s a pretty big change, I guess. And I’m sad about Garmiray and the others, obviously. But we’re pretty much fine.”

“Where are you?” Julian said, following her into Bachu’s basement. “Bachu never told me.”

Melissa hesitated. “You know what? You’ll find out in a minute.”

The elevator opened out on Bachu’s doggy paradise. The dogs knew to avoid Julian by now. Melissa idly scooped up a chihuahua under her arm. Then all thoughts of dogs completely fled my mind.

In the little artificial meadow of Bachu’s basement were the android herself, several other Chee I didn’t recognize (not that I could tell their chrome faces apart), seven Andalites, and a Hork-Bajir.

Julian stopped in his tracks and stared. The Hork-Bajir was a young adult female. I recognized one of the Andalites as the young one who always went into battle in his own form – many Yeerks called him the “flag-Andalite.” Three of the Andalites were female. Mokad had talked about female bandits in her story, but it went against everything I’d known about Andalite warriors. And there were no humans among them, which would seem to discount the rumors floating around the Pool that one of the Andalite bandits was a human boy. It was a lot to take in.

Then my brain finally made sense of the Hork-Bajir. I stabbed a finger at her. “The Vissers didn’t destroy the free Hork-Bajir! I knew it!” There were a lot of bets with other Peace Movement members I could win, if I were allowed to talk about anything I saw here. Which I definitely wasn’t.

The Hork-Bajir grinned toothily. “My people are not so easily defeated.” She inclined her head. “My name is Toby.”

_A Seer,_ I thought, reeling. Julian said, taking his cue from the Iskoort in Mokad’s story, “Tidwell of Illim.”

Toby’s face was unreadable, but I could guess her reaction. The Hork-Bajir felt nothing but disgust for Yeerks and those who sympathized with us, and I could hardly blame them.

«Nice to see you again, Tidwell,» said an Andalite with luminous green eyes who looked like he could be the brother of the flag-Andalite.

Julian recognized the voice. He smiled. “Noorlin,” he said. “The pleasure is mine.” He looked back and forth among the Andalites, but none of the others introduced themselves. Julian shifted awkwardly and pulled Kaly’s tank into the circle. He sat on a tree stump, and Melissa sat next to us, pulling out a notebook and pen from her jacket pocket.

“Melissa has been kind enough to take minutes at meetings in the Hork-Bajir valley,” Toby said. “If no one objects, I would like her to take notes on this meeting, too.”

“I have a photographic memory,” Bachu said, “but she can take notes if you like.”

«No objections,» said the Andalite who looked the most grizzled and battle-scarred of the lot, a large male.

“Thank you,” Melissa said. “I really wanted to have a record of the first meeting of all the Guardians of the Galaxy.” When I stared at her, she coughed and said, “Um. That’s what, uh, some of us call it. The group of people who all want to take down the Empire on Earth.”

Julian laughed in surprise. The Andalites and the Hork-Bajir didn’t say anything. _They probably think it’s a weird human thing,_ Julian thought.

«It _is_ a weird human thing,» I said. «And I wouldn’t go so far as to call us some kind of superhero group. I don’t like Andalites, most of them don’t like me, Toby doesn’t like me, and I’m still really confused by the androids.»

«Actually, I think superhero groups in the comics are like that too,» said Julian.

The battle-scarred Andalite spoke. «We’re here to discuss a rogue Yeerk Pool. Can we have a look?»

I’d already seen it, but the others wouldn’t have. Bachu said, “Come with us,” and she and the other Chee led us to the Pool and the Kandrona generator.

They were tiny compared to the Grash Akdap Pool, of course, but the same size as some of the Pools in the Yeerk fleet. The Pool looked much like one of the aboveground swimming pools that humans sometimes built in their backyards. There was a platform next to it accessible by a ramp – _always thoughtful, the Chee,_ Julian thought – which let the Andalites and Melissa walk up and have a closer look. Toby, for her part, was tall enough to just look over the Pool’s edge without the ramp. The Kandrona generator was staggeringly tiny for its output, just a dome set in the ground near the Pool, about four feet across.

«How many can it hold?» said a female Andalite with dark eyes.

“A hundred and fifty, for now,” Bachu said. “Right now it’s limited more by filtration systems than space. We did our best based on the blueprints Illim and Tidwell brought us, but we’re not Yeerk Pool engineers.”

To my surprise, the Andalites looked at the Pool without disgust. They walked back down the ramp as if they had seen something no more interesting than a new type of engine coolant.

“I want to clear something up,” I said, as Julian took a seat again on the tree stump. “I think we all know why Bachu, Melissa, Tidwell, and I are here. We want these Peace Movement Yeerks to be free and safe, along with the hosts and families of the Yeerks who have human partners. What about the rest of you?” I looked around the circle. “Why are you here?”

“We are pacifists,” one of the Chee said – I couldn’t even tell which, since they had no mouths to move. “We are fascinated by the existence of Yeerks who might share our views. Bachu has shared some of her experiences of your Peace Movement with us over CheeNet, but we want to learn more.”

I wanted to tell them that not all Peace Movement Yeerks were pacifists – Aftran certainly wasn’t one, and I was undecided on the issue myself – but Julian caught the thought and warned me that I should really just shut up and listen.

A silence fell. It was awkward, but I guessed it might not be for the Andalites or the Chee – they could confer silently among themselves, and probably were doing just that.

«We do that too,» Julian pointed out. «Really it’s just Melissa and Toby who have to sit there and twiddle their thumbs while the rest of us do… secret mind stuff.»

Finally, the battle-scarred Andalite, who seemed to be the one in charge, said, «We can all agree that we are not friends. But none of us want Visser Three to conquer this planet. Creating a rogue Pool advances that goal, for all of us. The more Yeerks come here, the fewer our enemies.»

It was an unsurprising answer, but one that did not make me hopeful for achieving my secondary goal here today. _Hey,_ Julian thought, catching onto my nerves. _We’re going to do our best. We’re going to convince them, okay?_

That embarrassed me, a little. I felt like it was my role in our partnership to give him courage, not the other way around. But I had met Julian in a time of great weakness and pain. Perhaps our partnership had changed with the times.

Toby the Hork-Bajir said, “My people held a vote, and we decided we could not abandon the human-Controllers’ children to their fates.”

My reaction to this statement was what Julian later called a “blue screen of death,” referring to the screen displayed by some primitive human computers when they encountered a fatal error. There was really too much to take in at once: first, the notion that Hork-Bajir had a government; second, that it was a democracy of some kind; and third, that they had voted to help out of compassion for alien children.

Noorlin said gently, «That was very kind of your people, Toby.»

The Andalite leader said, «In the long term, we would like to build a pipeline for Yeerks who wish to break away from the Empire to come here, if we can do so safely. And thanks to the Hork-Bajir, we can guarantee asylum for hosts and their families.»

“An Underground Railroad,” Melissa said, scratching away with her pen. Julian nodded, and even a couple of the Chee, too.

“I hope we will be able to help the resistance against the Empire in some way, even from here,” I said, regaining my balance. “I’m not sure how, yet. But even just sending word back to the Grash Akdap Pool that this one exists will build dissent. Once my people know an alternative exists to the Empire, our ideas might gain broader appeal.” I remembered something from the Mokad Plisam Pool chatroom, last time I logged on. “The Peace Movement has helped you already. A new defector to the Movement cut the power in the community center when Sub-Visser Fifty-One held you hostage.”

The Andalites traded looks. «Why?» said an older female bandit.

“Not all of us agree with torture as a tactic of war,” I said.

«Don’t you?» said the older female Andalite softly. «Your defector must have had a host, to do what he did. All of you who have involuntary hosts are torturers.»

I felt Julian’s memories of the early days of my infestation in his mind, like a red pulsing wound. I looked down at Kaly, weaving between Julian’s fingers in her tank. “You’re right. This defector was a torturer. Just like I was. But Yeerks aren’t raised to see it that way. We have to learn. Recognizing what the Sub-Visser did to you as evil is a step in that direction, I think. I hope. And most of the Yeerks I want to smuggle here are young ones. Children. They haven’t learned to hate yet, not really. They have a chance to learn differently.”

That had an effect on the others. Toby leaned toward me a little with her long snake-neck, and the Andalites exchanged startled looks. I realized they’d never even thought of Yeerks as having children. Perhaps they’d thought we emerged fully formed as clonal warriors of evil.

Then Julian did something remarkable. He seized the moment and spoke for me. He did nothing to indicate that it was him speaking instead of me. He only looked up at the Andalites and said, “That’s why I want to ask you to help a very important Yeerk who’s under arrest and public torture. Their name is Firtips, and they know more stories and lore from the homeworld than anyone else. They know things from before the Yeerks became an Empire. They could teach the young, show them a different way. But they can’t. They’ll be tortured to death before they can get the chance. Unless you do something about it.”

«You are saying that this is like what happened to Aftran,» the dark-eyed female Andalite said. «They’ve imprisoned this Yeerk and will starve him to death for… what?»

«That Andalite cares,» Julian said, surprised.

«Maybe that’s the female who’s Mokad’s friend,» I replied. «That’s reassuring. Maybe.» Out loud I said, “For telling stories. Old stories, from before we were conquerors. Visser One is on a tear about censorship. Any media that don’t support the Empire are banned. It’s always been Firtips’s calling to tell stories like that. And now they’ll die for it, unless you do something.”

For some reason, that made the Andalites exchange long looks, especially to the smallest one, a male. The dark-eyed female spoke again. «What are the stories like? What is their message?»

“They’re mostly about life in the Pools. Starting new Pools, surviving catastrophes, exploring new waters.” I shrugged. “I haven’t heard as many of them as I would like. We don’t learn them growing up. I just heard them from Firtips after I joined the Peace Movement.”

A silence stretched on as the Andalites conferred. Julian cupped Kaly in his hand under the water and turned to look at Melissa. She was still taking notes, biting her bottom lip in concentration, her dæmon perched on the top edge of her notebook. Then he looked at Toby, who was studying us, head tilted. Julian raised his eyebrows.

Toby said, “We have a Hork-Bajir like that. One who has tried to collect stories from the homeworld that we’ve lost. To remember what we were like before you Yeerks made us slaves and stole our planet. Her name is Rej Hullan. It’s healed us, finding our history again. We never should have lost it in the first place. But it matters, getting it back.”

Another silence. Julian let Kaly go, but she stayed and nibbled at his fingers with her tiny mouth. Finally, the Andalite leader said, «We will rescue this Yeerk. It will be a distraction while the Chee smuggle out the Yeerks from the Pool.»

“Smuggle them out?” I said. Electricity shot through Julian’s body; he was sitting very straight. “How?”

“We can modify our own bodies,” Bachu explained. “Two of us are altering our bodies to contain tanks with water and the right balance of salts. We will go to the Pool under our holograms and put Yeerks in our tanks. This we’ve already planned. What we don’t know is where we should pick them up and how we can tell we are collecting the right Yeerks.”

Julian’s fingertips were tingling. Human reactions to excitement were so interesting. “Go to the creche,” I said. “The area of the Pool we keep in optimal conditions for the children. I can draw a map, show you exactly where to go.”

“Aftran told me about that,” Bachu murmured. “I can share that information via CheeNet.”

«This is happening,» I thought, looking at the Andalites. «This is really happening. Freedom for the Peace Movement. Rescue for Firtips. The Andalites are _doing this_.»

«We will have questions for the Yeerks who defect to this Pool,» the flag-Andalite said. «There is intelligence that could be of great use to us.»

«So you can kill their friends?» I wondered, but did not say. I was sure my fellows in the Peace Movement could make that argument for themselves, when the time came. For now, I needed the Andalites on board. So I just nodded. I’d gotten what I’d wanted, what I hadn’t really hoped I would get. Now it was time to stay quiet, make a map, and show them the way.


	5. If You See My Enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter endnotes for warnings.
> 
> “If you see my enemies  
> tell ‘em I stand corrected  
> tell ‘em I want to be friends again.”  
> – “If U C My Enemies” by Rubblebucket

**The Mokad Plisam Pool**

  


**[G] Eftrof:** I was just near the part of the Pool where they’re holding Firtips and I could feel them screaming. I feel sick. When will this end? I don’t know how to live with this.

**[U] Velger:** Were you not here when they did the same thing to Mokad, @Eftrof?

**[G] Eftrof:** No. My partner and I were stationed on the Pool ship until recently. I thought that was bad enough. But living under Visser Three is a whole new level of horror. [ _Emoji of a Yeerk drying out on dry land. Implies a painful loss of the will to live._ ]

**[H] Illim:** If it helps, I can tell you all a story Firtips told me when I first joined the Peace Movement and I was really afraid I would be found out and killed.

[ _Many emojis of approval and interest._ ]

**[H] Illim:** There was once a Yeerk of a spawning called Deeker who was called to be _javeshed_ , an explorer who would join with a Gedd on its wanderings and find a new Pool for Yeerks to live in. _Javeshed_ was a very dangerous role, and Deeker’s younger spawn-sibling waited anxiously for the wandering Gedd, Marrdrrr, to return.

**[H] Illim:** Two rane later, Marrdrrr waded into Deeker’s home Pool, but Deeker the elder did not emerge from its ear. Deeker the younger swam to Marrdrrr’s ear, pressed their palps inside, and found no Yeerk there. Marrdrrr did not attempt to pull Deeker away. So, without permission from the Pool elders, Deeker joined with Marrdrrr.

**[H] Illim:** Right away, Marrdrrr told Deeker that their sibling was dead. Deeker felt Marrdrrr’s sorrow, and found its memory of what happened. Marrdrrr and Deeker in their wanderings had found a Pool, and it had looked well enough.

**[H] Illim:** Marrdrrr knelt by the Pool and Deeker went to swim in its sludge. They must have begun to suffer terribly at the first instant, for the Pool’s floor was fouled with the metalsick alga. But Marrdrrr would never have known this if Deeker had not acted in their last moments of life.

**[H] Illim:** Deeker swam to the Pool floor, straight into the metalsick algae, absorbing as much of it as they could. They became so befouled with metalsick algae that as they died, their body bloated and blackened and floated to the surface of the Pool, where Marrdrrr could smell what had happened.

**[H] Illim:** Marrdrrr said to Deeker the younger, “Your sibling used their last moments of life to show both your people and mine that the Pool and the waters around it were poisoned with the metalsick alga, so no one else would ever have to suffer for it. That is the mark of a great _javeshed_.”

**[U] GenerationFreedom:** [ _Emoji of a Yeerk swimming in circles. Indicates confusion._ ] …is that it? That story was depressing.

**[G] Eftrof:** No. I get it. The story is saying that everyone dies. There’s no avoiding it. But you get to decide whether your death will mean something or not.

**[H] Illim:** Being part of the Peace Movement is not safe. We all know this. And after the operation going down this rane, it will only be more dangerous. I can’t disclose details of the operation here, but very soon, we will have our first batch of permanent defectors from the Pool. The Empire will not take that well.

**[U] Velger:** [ _Emoji of a Yeerk using its body to protect another Yeerk from a strong current. Indicates worry._ ] Does this operation put you at risk, @Illim?

**[H] Illim:** Yes. But I know that if I die, it will be a warning to our people who are paying attention. This Pool is poisoned.

  


**Illim**

I logged out of the Mokad Plisam Pool and disengaged from the terminal. It was almost time for the great escape. I didn’t feel like a brave _javeshed_. I didn’t want to die. I wanted my people to get out of this terrible place.

I started to swim toward the creche area of the Pool. I wasn’t supposed to be there, so I shouldn’t actually get there until the Andalites came and turned everyone’s attention elsewhere. Actually, since I was going to the new Pool with Tidwell, I had no reason to be in the creche area at all. But I wanted to be witness to this great event. And maybe some of the defector Yeerks could use my reassurance.

I wasn’t the only one hanging around the creche area, waiting for the right moment. I recognized Janath, one of the older members of the Peace Movement, and Akdor’s Worst Nightmare, who we often called AWN for short.

“Illim!” AWN said when I showed up. She fluttered around nervously, bumping up against me and Janath. “How will we know when it’s time?”

“Trust me,” I said. “You’ll know.”

“The bandits’ attacks are not exactly subtle,” Janath said wryly. “Sometimes I wonder if Esplin got his oafish ways from his host.”

“Did they build this Pool?” AWN said. “I know you said you tested the Pool and it was fine, and I trust you, but even after everything I’ve heard, I find it hard to believe that Andalites would build a Pool.”

“They didn’t,” I said. “They have unlikely allies. Some of them even unlikelier than me and Mokad. They helped Mokad and the Peace Movement hosts who escaped. I wish I could give you details. Once they’ve taken you away from here, they’ll tell you more. I promise.”

An alert began to sound through the Pool, on both sonar and electric bands. Andalite bandit attack. Janath’s and AWN’s electric fields crackled fear and excitement. The whole pool hummed with low-level electric terror. Yeerks all around us swam and cried out in confusion. “Let’s go,” I said, and swam into the creche area.

A crowd was gathering at the very edge of the Pool. Some were adults. Fighting Every Rane, or FER, our main contact among the creche workers, joined us with the grubs of the Mielan spawning. “What’s happening, Illim?” FER said. “The children are scared. We have to get out of here.”

The Pool was pulsing with the electric buzz of children’s fear and the steady siren of the Pool alert of an Andalite bandit attack. In the distance, I could hear someone yelling Firtips’ name.

There was a disturbance in the water from above. A vast, mechanical sort of sonar voice came down to us from the surface. “THIS IS CHROME.” Chrome was the code name I’d given the Peace Movement for the Chee who’d be transporting them from the Pool. “STAY WHERE YOU ARE AND YOU WILL BE SAFELY EVACUATED.”

“How are they doing that?” one of the Mielan children gasped.

“Chrome will take care of you,” I said, putting all my confidence into the spark of my electric fields as I backed away from the Chee’s range. “I have to go. I’ll see you soon! I promise!”

“I’m scared!” one of the children cried.

I felt the turbulence in the Pool sludge as the Chee collected the Peace Movement Yeerks. The water displacement sent me tumbling backward. The children’s electric thrum of fear still danced along my nerves.

I was suddenly overwhelmed by the responsibility of it. I’d never had trouble teaching Tidwell’s classes, never truly understood why it filled him with fear. Now I did. Having the fate of children in one’s hands was a terrible responsibility. Now, if it all went wrong, I knew who was at least in part to blame.

  


**Tobias**

It’s hard to get more miserable and out of place than a hawk in a water tower. Even with Rachel holding my leg in one hand, my hawk brain was convinced I was going to drown.

“I know I came up with this idea,” Marco grouched, “but can I just say that I think it’s dumb, and maybe cursed? Last time we did this Ax got all delirious and started babbling about how great Oklahoma was or something.”

«This time, I am not ill.» Ax’s voice was calm, but I could hear the thread of tension in it. Even though he had been sick with _yamphut_ and couldn’t help it, he was still ashamed that he hadn’t been able to pull off this plan last time, when it had depended on his ability to remember the twists and turns in the pipes. He wanted to prove himself, even though he had nothing to prove.

“And this time the Chee got help from Illim and Tidwell on the Pool layout,” Cassie said. “They said this tap goes to the Taxxon drinking pit, and it’s almost always open.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Marco put on a chirpy voice. “Oh boy! A Taxxon drinking pit! Just where I always wanted to spend my Sunday morning. We’ve been there before, and it sucked!”

“Let’s just get it over with,” Rachel groused. She started to morph, and had to let me go, so I started focusing on the morph before the hawk mind could really panic.

The eel brain wanted to close its teeth on anything that moved, but I was used to dealing with predator instincts, so I kept it in check. The others, though, were biting each other left and right. A painful needle-toothed mouth clamped on my tail. «Ow! That was my tail! Get a grip, you guys!» I yelled.

«Everyone stop biting!» Cassie said. «Including me!»

«I am one mad little worm,» Rachel said with a laugh. «This eel has serious attitude.»

«You ready, Ax?» Jake said.

«Yes, Prince Jake.» We followed Ax down and got pulled into one wild ride.

Swimming has some parts in common with flying. But right now it didn’t feel like flying at all. I had no control. The current had me totally in its power. «The water main is just ahead,» Ax said. «We must resist the pull and keep swimming.»

Except that we were able to fight it. We kept going past the water main. And another. And another. «The next pipe we must take to the right,» Ax announced. Shloop! I followed him into the ferocious flow.

I don’t know how he kept it up the whole way. He anticipated the turn before we could hear the flow of the pipe. He always gave us the warning in time, turn after twist after turn. Elhariel thought giddily, _You need to ask him if that’s an Andalite thing or an Ax thing._

After about twenty turns, the flow started to slow down. I finally felt like we were going to make it. Which meant…

«Okay, everyone,» Jake said. «We’re getting close, right, Ax?»

«Yes, Prince Jake.»

«Illim told us that his people are going to be by the drinking pit when we come out. But they’re Taxxon-Controllers, so there’s no guarantee they’re going to be able to keep their hosts under control. So we gotta play this safe. Don’t put your head above water if you can help it, and get to your morphs, fast.»

«We know, Dad,» Marco said. «Some of us have actually been to the famous Taxxon drinking pit vacation spot before. We’ve seen the sights, survived the other tourists – »

«Take the upcoming left,» Ax intoned, and we went.

Finally, the pipe dumped us in what I really hoped was the Taxxon drinking pit – _not a phrase I ever thought you’d think_ , Elhariel joked – and I started demorphing as quickly as I could. Ax and I needed to be the distraction, since everyone else needed to go human first – which was even more tricky with the bulk of Abineng in the mix. The distraction for a bunch of thirsty Taxxons. Yikes.

The Taxxons were gathered all around the pit. I floundered awkwardly out of the water and hoped Ax had my back. The Taxxons screeched and eyed me hungrily, but then the pit sloshed and Ax leapt out of the water with a huge splash. I shook the water off my feathers, hopped up on Ax’s back, and screeched, wings outstretched. I held on for dear life as Ax sailed in a flying leap over the Taxxons into a chaos of screams, roars, and Dracon fire.

I flapped my wings to shake off the water. «Run, Ax! Run! Remember where you’re supposed to go!»

«I remember,» Ax said snippily as he leapt and dodged around the Pool. And of course I wasn’t worried about his memory, which was about a hundred times better than mine. He had told me before this insane mission that he wasn’t sure he trusted Tidwell/Illim’s information on where we could safely morph in the Pool. I’d told him I’d been inside Tidwell’s head and I trusted him. That had helped. But I was still worried that right now, when it really mattered, he wouldn’t take the advice.

My wings were drier, which meant it was my turn to do my part, which may have been the most insane of all the completely stupid things we were doing this mission. I scanned the Pool for Firtips’ cage, then for the Chee. They were disguised under a hologram of an earthmover with a specific code written on the side, in small lettering pretty much no one but me would notice.

This was the moment of truth. I took off from Ax’s back as Jake roared a challenge behind me. That drew some of the heat away from me, but I still had to wing my way through Dracon fire to snatch up Firtips’ cage. I screeched in pain as I hooked my talon through the ring at the top of the small, clear, enclosed cage. It was electrified in some way. Not too strong, but enough that it stung like a dozen bees to pick it up.

It was harder to fly now. Below me, the other Animorphs were fighting for their lives, including Loren. But I couldn’t think about that. I flew in the direction of the earthmover. My timing had to be spot on. _Wait for it,_ El said. _Wait for it… now!_

I let a Dracon beam sear my tail feathers. I screamed in genuine agony and dropped Firtips’ cage right on the earthmover. The cage shattered against the earthmover and cut Firtips to pieces. Or so it seemed to anyone watching the hologram.

«Aaaahhh!» I cried. I’d let myself get hit too hard. I was spiraling out of control! I flapped frantically to get my balance back, but I was falling, falling!

Ax came bounding toward me, cutting the face of a Hork-Bajir with his blade even as he flew on his hooves in my direction. He caught me in his arms. I could feel my bones rattle painfully together as I made impact, but I didn’t fall.

«Remember,» I said to him, a little delirious with pain. «Remember where to go.»

«I remember,» Ax said, this time more gently. He ran away from the Pool, to the maze of administrative buildings we’d never explored much. There was a tall barbed wire fence back here, just as Illim/Tidwell had described. Really tall. Like I wasn’t sure even Ax would be able to jump over it tall.

But he gave himself a really good running start, and went sailing over it. And I wasn’t even remotely prepared for what was on the other side.

They were Hork-Bajir children with stubby blades, kept in a pen with troughs of water and bark chips. There was no one watching them. I saw a gate in the fence where someone must come in to refill the troughs. My heart seized in my chest. They were being kept like _farm animals_.

«Put me down,» I told Ax.

The children cringed away from us. My heart broke. El said, _They think we’re Controllers. Here to do… whatever they do to them._

«We’re not Controllers,» I said. «No Yeerks.»

The children just stared.

«You’re not going to be slaves forever,» I whispered. «I promise. We can’t help you yet. But we will.»

Ax was just standing there, looking all around, totally thunderstruck. _He’s stuck,_ El thought. _We need to move him along._ «We have to get out of here,» I said. «Flies. You know the way to the nearest exit, right?»

«Yes,» Ax said automatically. «It will take us thirty of your minutes to reach in fly morph.»

«I’m sorry,» I told the children. «This is going to look really scary.» We morphed.

I could hear the children cry with fear as we morphed. They called us _sharka mak deela_ , monsters from Father Deep. _They probably didn’t believe a word of the promise we made,_ El said hopelessly.

_Illim and Tidwell knew it was safe,_ I thought, flying away from that terrible place. _And it was. But they wanted us to see that. They had a reason._

As he showed me the way to the exit, Ax said, «That is perhaps the most monstrous thing I have seen in a war of monstrosities.»

I latched onto Ax’s words, that moral clarity he always seemed to have. I didn’t really get his whole Andalite warrior culture thing, and maybe I never would, but I could say this about it: it made him more sure about things than I ever could be. There’s a kind of weight, when he says things like that. The way he says, «That is monstrous,» the same way he would say, «Your sun is a main sequence star with a relatively small gravity well.» Like it was a fact about the universe.

  


When Ax and I got to Bachu’s house, there were already people there dropping off their Yeerks, for lack of a better word. Bachu and the other Chee were covering all the ins and outs with the excuse of a block party. The neighbors were all gathered around the barbecue in the front yard while Bachu grilled up burgers and hot dogs. My hawk brain eyed the raw burgers, but I steered it toward the sheltered backyard, where Ax and I could slip in through the open sliding door to the patio.

Luis was inside. He smiled. “Welcome. Everyone’s downstairs. Your friends will be glad to hear you made it out all right.”

«Did the Yeerks and their kids make it?» I said. «What about Firtips?»

“They’re all here,” Luis said warmly. His coyote dæmon led us to the elevator to the basement. “Go on. I’ll be up here directing any Peace Movement Controllers to the right place.”

Ax demorphed in the elevator, and I hopped on his back. When we got out, I saw one of the lunch ladies from the middle school cafeteria, Marjorie, with her kids. She got up from kneeling by the Yeerk pool, leaning on her kudu dæmon as she stood, and a Chee touched her gently on the shoulder and spoke with her quietly while her kids clung to her hands. I had a weird urge to say hi. There were other people I didn’t recognize in line along the ramp to the Pool, others talking to Chee. The other Animorphs were under Chee holograms of Andalites, like we had been last time we met up down here. But there was one fewer then there should have been. «Hey. Where’s Marco?» I asked in private thought-speech.

«You’re back,» Loren said. It was weird to see her as an Andalite – it gave me double-vision to that weird alternate timeline the Ellimist showed us. «We were worried about you.»

«Marco had to go home for a bit,» Jake said, behind his grizzled Andalite mask. «His dad and Nora just got back from their honeymoon and he wanted to be home studying when they got back. So they wouldn’t think he spent the whole time they were away partying or whatever.»

A young woman who didn’t seem all that much older than us – maybe eighteen – came up to us, holding a toddler on her hip. Her iguana dæmon carried the baby caterpillar dæmon on his head. “You really did help us,” she said. “My Yeerk – my partner – FilshigTraitor said she didn’t think you would.”

«Filshig what?» Rachel said.

“Oh!” said the girl. “That’s her alias in the Peace Movement. Like Illim.”

«We… did not know they did that,» Rachel said.

«How is your child?» I asked the girl.

“He’s fine,” she said. “I think he’ll miss FilshigTraitor, though.” She shifted him on her hip. “Well, thanks for helping. The Chee say we’ve got to go soon.” And with that she walked away, her iguana dæmon scuttling behind her.

«She thinks her kid will miss her Yeerk,» Rachel said, sounding as confused as I was.

«I guess it was like a part-time babysitter or something,» Cassie said. «If they shared a brain the way Aftran and I did.»

The other Peace Movement hosts watched us curiously. Two older people with insect dæmon lanyards came toward us. I could feel Ax stiffening beneath me. He didn’t want to talk to these Peace Movement hosts. He was still trying to process what he’d seen in the Yeerk Pool. So was I. But it was harder on him, with his _hrala_ loose and unanchored. _We need to check on him,_ Elhariel said.

I aimed my thought-speech at Lourdes, who was nearby. «Could you come over here and throw a hologram over me? I need to morph Hork-Bajir. I know you’re doing important stuff but – it’s urgent.»

Lourdes disentangled herself from a conversation and came over to me. A hologram shivered into being over us, showing her true form underneath. As I began the morph, she said, “I have to say, this is the most interesting thing that has happened to us Chee since we landed on Earth.”

«You get to be friends and helpers again,» I said. «Like you were before.»

Lourdes laughed harshly. “Not me. I’m no one’s helpmate. I’m here only because I want to be.”

I considered Lourdes as I morphed. Rachel had mentioned to me before that she was different from other Chee, but not exactly why. As I became more Hork-Bajir, Elhariel noticed that she had a lot of _hrala_ around her. _I don’t know whether it’s because she was made by the Pemalites, or because she makes it herself. The_ hrala _flow around her is… confusing. Complicated. Maybe Elgat Kar would be able to tell._

Fully morphed, I looked at Ax, the familiar broken-root pattern of his _hrala_. It was like a deep dark well inside him where a thread of his _hrala_ disappeared and never came out. Sometimes I imagined it stretching out toward Firi Dria across the light-years, trying to reach his Guide Tree and faltering before it could get there.

Ax pointed a stalk eye at me questioningly. « _Hrala_ flow is thinner than I’d like,» I said. «Loren and I should go with you back to your scoop after this, help shore it up.» Ax nodded.

That was when I looked around the Chee basement. Beyond the normal _hrala_ flow around the Animorphs, and the weird one around the Chee, I could see that some of the Peace Movement hosts looked different from the others. It looked strange and broken around their heads for some reason, and it looked familiar somehow, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. And then there was the Yeerk Pool.

Before I realized what I was doing, I’d moved closer to the Pool. I couldn’t quite make sense of what I was seeing, not yet. _Hrala_ was denser around the Pool, which made sense because it was full of Yeerks. But the flow didn’t look the same as it did when the Hork-Bajir came together in their circles in the valley. There was something wrong with it. I closed my eyes for a second. I could feel the _hrala_ tingling in my skin still – the Hork-Bajir _hrala_ -sense wasn’t entirely visual. I opened them again. Some of the Yeerks were children, as Illim had said. They didn’t have as much _hrala_ as the adults. And whatever was wrong with the adults, it was only starting to happen to the children.

The children’s _hrala_ was doing something I’d never seen before. It was reaching out and hooking onto other Yeerks, casting out like fishing lines. It reminded me of the _hrala_ connection between human and dæmon, but it didn’t have the constant, anchored feeling of that link.

A Controller knelt by the side of the Pool to drop off his Yeerk – _Tidwell_ , Elhariel noticed distantly. He had the strange broken mess around his head too. But as Illim slithered out of Tidwell’s ear and dropped into the pool, that broken-up tangle went with him, and Tidwell looked normal again, with his glowing-bright connection to Kalysico in her tank beside him. As Illim dropped away, I saw that fishing line again, like I’d seen in the children connecting to the other Yeerks, but even fainter, the thinnest thread reaching from his _hrala_ to Tidwell’s, then wavering and breaking as he swam away.

_That’s it,_ Elhariel said, watching the Yeerks. _I know what’s going on. We’ve seen this before. We’re basically the only ones who see this all the time. We’ve studied it. Tobias, all the adult Yeerks have broken roots. The children don’t have broken roots yet, because… because…_

I looked down in the Pool and put it together. Now Elhariel had pointed it out, I could finally see it – all the Yeerks had that dark well in the center of their _hrala_ that Ax had in his, the open wound that weakened _hrala_ , leached it away. The children with their fishing lines, going from Yeerk to Yeerk. The weak one going from Illim to Tidwell.

Ax came up behind me and touched me gently on the arm, between my blades. «Tobias? What is going on? You have been staring at the Pool for ten of your minutes.»

«I need to speak to the Yeerks in this Pool,» I said. I could feel everyone’s stares on me. «Right now. Can we do that? Is it possible?»

I heard Lourdes say, “Bachu may be able to find a way. I’ll get her down here.”

Tidwell came down the ramp, rolling his dæmon’s tank behind him. “Noorlin? Is that you? What’s going on?”

My head was pounding. I wished some real Hork-Bajir were there. They would do a better job of explaining this than I ever could. «The Yeerks have a problem,» I said. «A major one. But I think I can help. Maybe.»

Tidwell looked up at me. He spoke more quietly than he did when Illim was with him, with a bit of a stammer, shifting from foot to foot. But Kaly was pressed right up against the wall of her tank, looking at me too, and I knew he meant business. “Just the ones in this Pool? Or all of them?”

_Oh no,_ Elhariel said. _I didn’t even think of that. Think of how much worse this must be in the Yeerks who aren’t in the Peace Movement. The ones that haven’t even tried to…_

“All of them,” I said. “But these are the only ones who’d maybe listen to an Andalite bandit. And even they might not believe me.”

“Whatever it is,” Tidwell said seriously, “I believe you.”

The Chee were rounding up the Peace Movement hosts, giving them packs of supplies, talking to them about what would happen next. The other Animorphs gathered around me. They had to be dying to know what I was going on about, but I was only going to explain this once or my head would explode.

Bachu came striding up to the Pool. “Lourdes says you need me to translate. Aftran taught me Yeerkish, when we were together. I taught it to the Chee who picked up these Yeerks and smuggled them out. I should be able to both send and receive sonar and electric impulses in the Pool fluid.”

«I was hoping you’d say something like that,» I said. «Can you tell them I have something important to say?»

“Tell them yourself,” Bachu said, walking up the ramp. “You have thought-speech, don’t you? I just need to translate things on their end.”

_Oh. Right,_ Elhariel said, eyeing the complex jagged mess of _hrala_ in the Pool. _I didn’t think of that. I guess thought-speech works as well on Yeerks as anyone else._

Bachu dipped her hand in the roiling brown Pool sludge. “Testing, one two three,” she murmured. “Can you hear me? Good. All right, Tobias, I’m all set. Hmm. Yes. Illim will be the representative for the Pool, for the purposes of this conversation.”

I cast my thought-speech out, including all the Yeerks in the Pool. «Hello,» I said, putting on my Andalite voice. «I am one of the Andalite bandits. You can call me Noorlin. I have a question for all of you. Have you ever heard of _hrala_? The humans call it Rusakov particles.»

A pause. Bachu said, “No, they have not.”

«The Hork-Bajir can see it,» I said in public thought-speech.

“Oh,” Tidwell said quietly. “You mean the sensory impairment in Hork-Bajir.”

I wanted to snap at him that he didn’t understand the first thing about the Hork-Bajir, but I held back. «It is not a sensory impairment. It is a remarkable ability. _Hrala_ is the fundamental particle of consciousness and intent. It is drawn to sentient beings and the artifacts they create. Hork-Bajir can see it. With training and practice, they can detect patterns in it.»

Bachu said, “This is news to the Yeerks here. I might remind you that none of the Yeerks in this Pool have Hork-Bajir hosts, nor do Yeerks in the Peace Movement as a matter of course.”

Elhariel called to mind what we’d just seen in the Pool, and I felt sick. It made sense. No being treated like that by the Yeerks would ever, ever want to be their partners.

“Many of them are skeptical, but they’re listening,” Bachu added.

«I have practiced observing _hrala_ in Hork-Bajir morph,» I said. «I have learned much. Different species have different anchors to _hrala_. Hork-Bajir interact with it directly. Andalites have Guide Trees on their homeworld that are their anchors to _hrala_. Humans have dæmons, which are made of _hrala_.»

I gave the Yeerks a minute to take that in. Bachu said, “One of the Yeerks used to have a Taxxon host, and suspects that they have a connection of a similar kind to something called the Living Hive. Several of them have heard of Guide Trees, because they heard Visser Three bragging about a device he invented to sever Andalites from their Guide Trees.”

«He attempted to use that device on us,» I told the Yeerks, keeping up my formal Andalite-speak. «He did not succeed. But the war has taken its toll. My own _hrala_ was damaged in the attempt. One of my fellow warriors has a long-term disruption in his connection to his Guide Tree.» I let them think that it was because of the severance chamber, because the details of Ax’s condition were for him to share, not me. «The Hork-Bajir call it a broken root. It is a rare and unusual condition with a variety of negative effects. Difficulties with empathy. A sense of disconnection from self and others. Flattening of the personality. Loss of imagination and memory. A kind of low-grade despair. My fellow warrior is the only person I have met with a broken root, a serious disruption of his anchor to _hrala_. Until now.»

Silence fell. No one besides me, Loren, and Ax knew about the _hrala_ problems Ax and I had been dealing with. «I’m sorry,» I told him privately. «I didn’t want to drag your personal business into the open. But this is important.»

Before I could find out what Ax thought about what I’d done, Bachu said, “The Yeerks express surprise that Andalites consider them to be similar to other sentient species in their relationship to _hrala_. They want to know if you’re saying they create as much _hrala_ as any other species, and that they too have a unique connection to it.”

«They do,» I said publicly. «But it’s a broken root. In all of them, it’s broken. Except in the children.»

Behind me, Cassie said, «What _is_ their anchor?»

«I might have this wrong,» I admitted. «I’m not an expert in this _hrala_ vision. But I think I can tell what it is. It’s other sentients. Other _hrala_ -producing beings. I can see the children’s _hrala_ constantly trying to connect to other Yeerks’ _hrala_. I think the adults do it too, but only a little. Sluggish, I suppose. And I could see Illim’s _hrala_ connecting to the _hrala_ of his partner, Tidwell. But the connection is not as strong as what I see between humans and their dæmons. They are… stunted. Damaged.»

Loren said publicly, «So you’re saying… what? That they’re _hrala_ parasites? Stealing it from each other and their hosts?»

«No,» I said. «The _hrala_ of the Peace Movement hosts is entirely normal. They do not seem to steal _hrala_ from others any more than Andalites steal _hrala_ from their Guide Trees, or humans from their dæmons.»

“Sorry,” Bachu said. “There is a lot going on in the Pool, even for a Chee to process. Your statement’s made quite the splash. I’ll try to summarize. They want to know if you’re saying that something is wrong with them because they can’t anchor normally to the _hrala_ of others.”

«I don’t think so,» I said. «The children seem to do it fine, for the most part. But something changes in the adults. They do not connect to one another or to their hosts anymore – or rather, they do so only weakly.» I hesitated. «I think it is because of how they live in the Empire. The Pool does not seem to be a good place to live, from what we have heard from Aftran and Illim. None of you Yeerks trust each other. You do not have a functioning society. And as for connections with hosts… well. We all know how bad those are.»

Another silence fell. I could feel the weight of too many eyes on me. I wanted to demorph and fly away. _You can’t,_ Elhariel said. _This is too important._

Finally, Bachu said, “They want to know if you think the condition can be fixed. You have had damage to your _hrala_ yourself, you say. What did you do?”

_What we do with Rachel and Abineng,_ Elhariel said. _Toby noticed we’ve been making more_ hrala _since we started doing that. She told us, remember? And then Loren thought it was because you and Rachel were having sex. That’s how we recovered from the_ hrala _damage, Tobias. By doing what we do with Rachel. And the Yeerks in the Pool – they could do it too._

I felt trapped inside my skin, weighed down by the bulk of my Hork-Bajir body. _If we tell them about what we’ve been doing – there’s no going back, Elhariel. Nothing will ever be the same._

_Look at them,_ Elhariel said, peering right into the Pool, the sucking black holes at the center of every Yeerk, fraying their _hrala_ away. Like Ax’s had been, before we started doing something to help him. _They need our help. We can’t hold this back from them._ She said aloud, so everyone could hear, «You can fix this. I know you can.»

I picked up where she left off. _No going back now,_ I thought. «My fellow warrior – my _shorm_ ,» I corrected. «He heals his broken root by connecting to his Andalite inheritance. By choosing not to lose his culture, even though he is very distant from his homeworld, and cut off from his people. He heals by telling stories to me. His _shorm_.

«And I? I do it by connecting mind to mind in a positive way. A healing way. With someone who wants to join minds together, for both of our sakes, so we can discover ourselves and each other. We do it by morphing Yoort, and temporarily infesting each other, with each other’s permission, giving each other only the access to our minds that we are ready to share. I see no reason why you cannot do the same.»

The Chee had been about to leave for Kref Magh with the Peace Movement hosts. But they all stopped and stared. Bachu was frozen in place. It was the last thing in the world I wanted to do, but I turned around and faced the Animorphs.

Everyone else was under a hologram, and the Chee weren’t bothering to give them any expressions. Everyone else but Ax, who was his own uncovered self. His tail was high, his eyes glittering with a hard furious light I’d only ever seen when he was looking at or talking about Yeerks. Except he was looking at _me._ The hard gleam in his eyes built and built, until he exploded. «You. Did. _WHAT?!»_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for violence, gross and gory death, and extreme harm to young children.


	6. The Best Teacher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “In the practice of tolerance, one’s enemy is the best teacher.” – Dalai Lama

**Ax**

I was looking into the wrong face.

If Tobias had been in his human or his hawk form, perhaps I could have gained some insight, some understanding of why he would admit to such vile acts. But he was in morph as Jara Hamee, his face an incomprehensible mask, and I could understand nothing about my _shorm_.

«I morphed Yoort,» he said, switching the conversation to thought-speech that only included the Animorphs. His voice was tired, resigned, as if already he was tired of speaking about this. «Like I did on the Iskoort world. I infested her, when we wanted to. A couple times we’ve done it the other way around. Listen, I don’t want to – »

«You _infested_ your girlfriend?» Loren said, appalled. «I thought you loved her! How could you do that to her?»

«He didn’t _do_ anything to me!» Rachel shouted. «How could he make me do it? What’s he gonna do in Yoort morph, put me in a headlock?»

«Rachel,» Tobias said, his voice firm and weighted in a way I’d never quite heard before. «Please. This is my family. I need you to let me do this.»

A pause. Rachel said, «Okay. Yeah. I get it. I’ll go upstairs.» Her hologram moved toward the elevator.

«Wait up,» said Prince Jake. «Cassie and I are coming too.»

«Oh, you’re gonna lecture me like the team mom and dad?» Rachel sneered, but she did not prevent them from following her.

I turned and walked away from the Yeerk Pool. I could not bear to be near it anymore. I found myself at the other end of the Chee’s strange holographic landscape, where David was buried. I pointed a stalk eye at his grave marker. It had been a blow to be so foully betrayed by that cruel human child. But it was far worse to be betrayed by Tobias.

The Chee had taken away the Yeerk-loving humans. There was nobody here but us, and the Yeerks in their Pool. Tobias and Loren demorphed. When she was done, Loren leaned against the tree by the grave marker, clutching Jaxom to her chest and crying silently. I went to her side. It is not the custom of Andalites to do so in times like these, but I touched her once on the shoulder, very lightly. “Thank you,” Jaxom whispered, barely loud enough to hear.

Tobias perched on David’s grave. He had a small stone in his beak. He placed it on the grave. «Rachel says her people – Jewish people, I mean – put pebbles on graves when they visit. She says it’s to weigh it down, to keep the soul from, I dunno, drifting away. I hate David, but… I definitely don’t want his soul floating away somewhere.»

Fresh tears welled in Loren’s blue eyes. “Did you learn that from her head?”

Tobias did not answer. I took that to mean that he had. My hearts broke a little more.

Loren closed her eyes, her face shining with tears. “Do you remember when you morphed Yeerk and infested me? How horrifying that was? The violation?” She trembled. “How you saw things about me you were never meant to see?”

«That’s different,» Tobias began.

“No. No, it’s not different.” Loren opened her eyes. “Tobias, that is not how people who love each other are supposed to treat each other. You talk, and you hold each other, and you go on dates, and you get to know each other piece by piece. There’s no… video game cheat code to get past all of that. This is wrong. And I know why you can’t see it. How could you? You never had any family growing up. I should have taught you what healthy relationships are like. I’ve failed you. Mother of God, Tobias, I am so, so sorry.” She began to weep too hard to speak.

«Rachel _wanted_ to do it,» Tobias said. «I morphed Yoort, not Yeerk – I couldn’t do anything she didn’t let me do.»

«The girl you are courting asked you to harm her,» I said coldly, «and you agreed. Rachel is my fellow warrior, my comrade-in-arms. I trust her with my life. But you know as well as I do that she often chooses to do things that are hurtful and dangerous to herself. Helping her to harm herself is no kindness.»

Tobias’s feathers fluffed out, increasing his apparent size. «I never hurt her! I wouldn’t, Ax!»

«Rachel does not have a Yoort morph,» I went on, «so in turn you asked her to morph Yeerk and violate your mind. That is your idea of courtship.» I reeled. I may have physically staggered. «Loren is right. We did not teach you what love and respect are meant to be. We were not family enough to you. You felt yourself so unworthy that you debased yourself to _this._ »

Tobias arched his wings. «I know what love is, Ax. I’m not some kind of – of _damaged goods_ who doesn’t know what’s right or wrong! I did this with Rachel _because_ I love her.»

I had tried to stay cold, but the anger and hurt surged helplessly over the bounds I’d set around them. All I could see before any of my eyes was an endless loop of Tobias pressing a slug to his ear, welcoming it in, opening his mind to Rachel in this foul form, giving up all the secrets and private moments I had shared with him, that were not meant for anyone else. I felt as if my own brain had been violated as well. I cried, «If that is what you think love is, then I do not want yours!»

Tobias snapped out his wings to their fullest extent, as if he meant to take off and fly away. But there was nowhere for him to go. I pressed on. «I gave you permission to be my medical proxy – to morph Yeerk and make me demorph if it were the only way to save my life. I revoke that permission now. I cannot trust you with that responsibility when you view morphing Yeerk as some sort of perverse, twisted courtship ritual.»

“Tobias, Elhariel,” Jaxom said. Like most dæmons, he rarely spoke openly in this way. “There is a better way than this. A better way to love. Please let us show you. _Please_.”

«You don’t understand,» Tobias said. «We – we had reasons. I – »

«You are correct,» I said. «I do not understand. If he were here, Elfangor would not understand either. He would never have treated Loren this way.»

Tobias took off from the grave in a sudden burst of speed, as if I’d swung my tail at him. He screeched and flew for the elevator. Loren and I were alone. My tail relaxed and lowered. I hadn’t quite realized it had been poised so high.

“Oh, Ax,” Loren said, hiding her face in Jaxom’s fur. “What do we do? How do we get him back? How on God’s green Earth can we fix this?”

«I do not know,» I said, feeling an abyss of unknowing between me and my _shorm_ , too wide to be leapt across.

  


**Cassie**

As Jake, Rachel and I demorphed in Bachu’s unused master bedroom, Quincy said, _You know, I kind of wish we’d thought of it first._

_What do you mean?_ I said.

_I mean, all those times we didn’t get Rachel, or she didn’t get us. If we’d done what she and Tobias did – bam, we’d just get it. We’d know from the inside._

_Neither of us has a Yoort morph,_ I pointed out. _I don’t think it would go so well. Either of us might do something we didn’t mean._

_Yeah, I guess so. The only ones who can really do it are Tobias and… Marco. But he never would._

_Until today,_ I thought, _I would have said Tobias never would._

We were all demorphed. I stood by the window. Abineng took up most of the front of the room, blocking the door. Jake sat at the foot of the bed, Merlyse a snow leopard at his feet. Rachel paced around the space that was left in the room, shooting us piercing looks.

Jake said, very calmly, “Why are you doing this, Rachel?”

“Because I want to,” Rachel spat. “This has nothing to do with the rest of you. Why do you care?”

“I need to know if this is compromising you and Tobias as members of the team,” Jake said. “I just want to get the facts. Why are you doing this?”

Rachel stopped and clenched her hand around Abineng’s horn. She narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong, Jake? Are you worried I won’t be your perfect killing machine anymore if Tobias gets in my head?”

Jake’s calm broke. His jaw clenched. “I have no idea what Tobias is doing in your head. That’s what I’m concerned about.”

“Jake,” I said, taking a step toward him. I couldn’t take much more of this tension in the air. “You never said I couldn’t share my brain with Aftran sometimes, back when she was still with Bachu. And I did. You know that. Why is this so different?”

Rachel turned and stared at me. She hadn’t expected me to defend her. Quincy took off from my shoulder and landed on Abineng’s mane. Abi turned his head and huffed at him gently.

“It’s different,” Jake said patiently, “because Aftran is an alien, and isn’t a part of the team.”

“It’s different because he doesn’t think _you’re_ crazy,” Rachel snapped at me.

_Ignore it,_ Quincy said. _She’s just lashing out._

“Rachel,” I said. “Why don’t you tell us about what you and Tobias do together? You don’t have to get into the details. Just… paint us a picture.”

She let out a long, rattling breath. “It keeps me calm. Makes me feel more… in control. I know that’s weird, but he doesn’t control me. He just shares my senses, and feels what I feel. Sometimes knows what I know. Having him feel all of that, and help me deal with it, it just… helps me get myself under control.”

That was when it clicked in my head. It had struck me, when we were in the basement, that when Tobias asked Rachel to stop chewing Ax and Loren out and let him handle them, she’d accepted it without argument. That was new. I must have asked Rachel about a hundred times in school to stop getting in the faces of everyone who made fun of my looks, but she’d never listened. She could rein herself in, now, if Tobias told her to. It reminded me of Aftran, all the ways she’d gotten me to question everything about myself I’d taken for granted.

“I get that,” I told her. “That’s what it’s like for me when I’m with Aftran.”

“Okay,” Jake said slowly. “And where do you do it? I know Cassie and Aftran, uh…” He seemed to search for the next word, and looked uncomfortable.

“We really need a better word for it than infestation,” I said. “When it’s something that both Yeerk and host want.”

“You, uh, did your thing,” Jake pressed on, “with Bachu there, under a hologram. What about you, Rachel?”

“In my room, mostly. Sometimes the rest of the house. A couple times in Tobias’s territory.” Rachel bit her lip and admitted, “Once in the Hork-Bajir valley.”

Jake read her guilty expression. He crossed his arms and said, “When you went to visit Tom.”

Rachel set her jaw – an expression she and Jake had in common, when they were being stubborn. “You know how hard it is to talk to Tom these days. Tobias stopped me from doing anything stupid.”

“Tom would be _beyond_ pissed if he knew you did that,” Jake ground out. “You can’t just go around with Tobias in your head like some kind of Yeerk Candid Camera without telling anyone. Have you done it front of anyone else?”

Rachel sagged back against Abineng’s hindquarters. “My mom. My sisters. Ax, one time.”

Jake rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I’m sure we’ll hear plenty from Ax about what he thinks about that. And Naomi and your sisters…”

Suddenly, Merlyse’s fur stood on end, and she flashed fangs. “This is our family, too, Rachel. What did Tobias see inside your head that was personal? Private? Your mom, your sisters, me – we’ve all done things with you, said things to you, that we didn’t think Tobias was going to – to relive in surround sound in your head later!”

Rachel’s face went blotchy and pale. I wasn’t sure what moment between them she was remembering, but Quincy thought, _I have a sinking feeling it has something to do with David._

Jake looked Rachel in the eye and said, “I’m not going to stop you from doing your thing with Tobias. If you want to do it, do it. But you can’t just go on like it doesn’t have anything to do with anybody else. Don’t do it in front of other people if they don’t know about it or they’re not cool with it, okay? You and Tobias may have your own ideas about privacy around each other, but not everything is yours to share. Even inside your own head.”

Abi looked at Merlyse. “Yeah. Okay. I get it.”

Rachel made for the door. “I got my lecture. Can I go now?”

“Hey,” I said. “You can do it in front of me.”

Rachel turned around. “What?”

“You and Tobias,” I said. “I don’t mind if you’re sharing your minds while you’re with me. I’m fine with it.”

Abineng whuffed against Quincy in his mane. “Thanks.”

Rachel glanced at Jake, just for a second. But he said nothing. He wasn’t fine with it, and who could blame him? He’d already had to live the nightmare of guessing every moment how much of what Tom said really came from Tom. He didn’t want to repeat it with Rachel.

I held my hand out for Quincy, and he flew to my palm. Rachel and Abineng left. The room seemed much bigger without them. I sat next to Jake on the bed, on the other side from Merlyse, but she became a snow bunting in his left palm, a mirror to Quincy sitting in my right palm. Jake looked down at Merlyse’s little bird form. “I can’t think straight about this. Did I do the right thing?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “We’re in new territory here. No one in the history of the galaxy has ever done this – morph into a Yeerk to infest someone they love. I think it’s kind of beautiful that they tried it. But I think you were right to get her to think about the right and wrong of what they’re doing.”

Quincy said, “I’m just glad you didn’t tell them they shouldn’t. That would have definitely been the wrong thing to do.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what Ax and Loren are telling Tobias right now,” Jake said. “That they should never, ever do it again. Cassie, this could tear us apart. This Rachel and Tobias thing. That’s what really worries me. I can see it. Tobias is stubborn, too, in his own way. He’s going to hate that Ax and Loren won’t listen to his side. And Marco? He’s going to needle both of them about it until they snap.”

“Talk to them,” I said. “Let Tobias go brood in the woods. He needs that. But after that – he needs to know he’s not on your shit list right now. And Marco? If you tell him not to come after them too hard about this, he’ll listen to you.”

He smiled at me. Just a ghost of one, at the corners of his mouth, but enough for me to see. “You’re right. As usual.”

  


**Eslin 825**

The Chee have installed a palp-interface terminal system in the Pool, with help from Green Sky and some informants from the Grash Akdap Pool. And not a moment too soon. It became apparent nearly as soon as the Chee dropped us in the Pool that we have no idea how to interact with each other outside a chatroom. It feels a little silly to keep using chat when we can actually interact freely palt to palp now. But the stories I’ve gathered about Pools on the homeworld tell us that we had systems in place to govern our Pools. Not Vissers and the Council of Thirteen and the Emperor, but Pool elders and creche parents and all kinds of other ways. We’ve chosen to reject the first way, and we’ve forgotten most of the other ways. The chatroom is the only we know to organize ourselves, and we need _something_.

Having a place where I can leave private notes to myself, like this one, is also valuable. I don’t know if anyone else is doing the same. As a collector of stories, I hope that they are.

In the chatroom, we’re still talking about everything that happened on that first day. I’ve been calling that day the Founding, to place it in the long tradition of epics about the Foundings of new Pools. The rest of the Aftran Plisam Pool has followed my lead in this. I wonder what they’re calling it back at the Grash Akdap Pool, or what our children will call it one day. For the sake of those future generations, here are my recollections.

I came to what we now call the Aftran Plisam Pool in bad shape. I’d been battered from my turbulent rescue from the Grash Akdap Pool (not that I was ungrateful, you understand.) My bioelectric organs were damaged, so I couldn’t show my feelings or any tone on my sonar. But I could still feel the electric life in the new Pool. The children were excited, and nobody else could quite believe we’d really made it.

And then, for reasons none of us can quite fathom, the Andalites didn’t just come to visit us at our new Pool – one of them, the one named Noorlin, morphed Hork-Bajir and looked at us. And he was moved to tell us what he saw.

None of us really understood or believed him at first. He was talking to us in Hork-Bajir terms, and none of us have Hork-Bajir partners. Green Sky was the first of us to get it. “I think I know what he’s talking about,” sie said. “Sssrisssya, my partner, talked about how much sie missed the Living Hive. Sie’d kind of ached when sie said it. This emptiness, like sie’d never be whole again. Not the normal Taxxon empty feeling, you know? Different.”

Green Sky was the only one who really got it, at the time. The rest of us only grasped at it. We did get was Noorlin was saying – that our connections to our Pool, to our hosts, were important to us, and had been profoundly corroded. What we didn’t get was just how profoundly we’d damaged ourselves.

The next day, when I’d calmed down, I made the connection. According to the Twelve-Rane Legends, and a few other stories besides, isolation is the worst possible punishment for a Yeerk. It only ever happened on the homeworld by accident or as punishment for the most heinous of crimes: poisoning the water.

When I swam through the weeds of my memory, I recalled the specifics of a relevant legend, and told it to the adults. It was the story of a _javeshed_ named Mardraf. They went wandering with a Gedd named Rrramarrri, and discovered a Pool good for Mardraf to swim and Rrramarrri to drink. While Mardraf explored the new Pool for threats, Rrramarrri left them behind to forage for bank-weeds by the Pool. The Gedd, unprotected by the Pool’s waters, was eaten by a sucking beast, stranding Mardraf. Their Pool mourned them, assuming they’d died. But many rane later, they sent out another _javeshed_ who went wandering with a wiser Gedd. They happened upon a good Pool, and when the new _javeshed_ swam in, they were horrified to discover that Mardraf was there.

They had gone mad, alone in the Pool. Worse than mad: empty. They did not care that another _javeshed_ had come. They swam ceaselessly into the current, sparking in pained, haunted bursts. The new _javeshed_ had their Gedd partner weave a basket and fill it with the good, clear waters of the Pool and carry Mardraf home – a risky proposition. But they made it back alive. Mardraf never recovered, but the Pool treated them kindly and honored them as befitted a _javeshed_.

That story made us realize that the danger Noorlin had warned us about was very real, even if we were not ready to hear it – but such is the way of _javeshed_ , according to the tales. Isolation is corrosive to the very essence of a Yeerk, and life under the Yeerk Empire is slowly and surely fraying every connection we have. We ignore our hosts’ pleas for mercy and freedom and treat them as nothing more than useful tools, isolating ourselves in their heads. In the Pool, we are so paranoid of being reported to a sub-Visser for disloyalty we’re afraid to talk about anything of substance. We’ve lost all the traditional ways of connecting to each other. Our _hrala_ , or whatever you’d like to call it, is starving like a Yeerk in darkness.

But our children have not succumbed to this sickness yet. And if Noorlin is right – and after all he has done I have no reason to think he is wrong – we adults can be healed too. We just haven’t quite figured out how, yet.

That’s a major topic of conversation in our new chatroom, to be sure. I’ve heard lots of ideas I’d like us to try. I’m humbled to say that I’ve already been asked to lead a regular storytime, toward that end. I tell stories aimed at the children on esh-rane, stories for adults only on tef-rane, and stories for everyone on siar-rane. Of course, there’s a lot more that needs to be done.

But the subject that still gets the most fevered discussion in the chatroom is our first ever Andalite _javeshed_ , Noorlin, and his mind-bendingly impossible admission that he and another Andalite choose to morph Yoort and infest each other, as a method of healing their _hrala_.

It’s only been a few rane since the Founding, but we must have asked a thousand questions in our disbelief. What happened on Garzh that made Noorlin and his comrade decide to try morphing Yoort again? What do they do when their minds are joined? Why did Noorlin decide to tell us about it? Were all of the other Andalites angry, or only the one who we heard shouting at him? Was Noorlin disgusted by the morph, but doing it anyway because it helped him heal his _hrala_ somehow, or did he actually appreciate being a Yoort on some level? What was it like for an Andalite, to become a Yoort and infest his comrade? Did Noorlin warn us about the problem with our _hrala_ because morphing Yoort made him sympathize with us?

We don’t have the answers to any of these questions, and we won’t unless we get a chance to speak to Noorlin again. We’ve asked the Chee to pass along a message to Noorlin asking him to come visit us, but we haven’t heard back yet.

I am willing to be patient. We need time to explore these new waters the _javeshed_ has led us to. The implications are vast. It means that there is nothing natural or inevitable about the relations between us and the Andalites. They can come to recognize our abilities as useful, and from that recognition may come respect. The remarkable planet of the Yoort, where they are merchants and diplomats for hundreds of species, is not an impossible dream for us Yeerks. It won’t happen within any of our lifetimes, but generations from now, it could happen.

Sometimes I imagine what I would do, if I lived on Garzh with the Yoort. I think I would be a scholar of memory, playing back the memories of different people adrift on different currents of life, finding the connections between them. I’m a poolie at my core, always have been. The only part of having a host that’s ever appealed to me is the rich catalog of memory.

The Mielan grubs have been settling in well, for the most part. Some of them miss creche carers who didn’t come with us. Some of them are afraid because we don’t know what will happen next. Back in the Grash Akdap Pool, they had a curriculum laid out for them. Engineering, military tactics, and the long-awaited infestation practice. They’re not yet reconciled to the idea that they’re not entitled to a host, not even for five minutes. They act like we’ve locked them in a cage, deprived them of their natural autonomy. It’s sad to see, and we’re trying to teach them otherwise. But I can’t blame them. They’ve been taught their whole lives that infesting a host is the culmination of Yeerkish destiny, our birthright and our essence. To dominate a host is to prove that you are a true Yeerk. And the problem is, we don’t have a replacement for it. If infestation is not a Yeerk’s best destiny, what is?

That’s something that has struck me about our Pools, compared to those in the stories. Ours are so limited and boring. I don’t think this is simply a function of the difference between story and reality. I became the storyteller that I am now because of a Gedd host I had a long time ago. They were a storyteller, and knew many tales from our homeworld. Their stories were idealized in their own ways, of course, but I don’t recall their memories of the homeworld being so colorless compared to their stories as our lives seem compared to our legends. The Yeerks of our epics traveled beyond the Pool with the Gedd, yes, but most Yeerks in the stories never left their Pools, and they still had so much to _do._ They would study and categorize every living thing that lived in the Pools. They felt their way through the waters and learned every substance that made it good or bad for Yeerks and Gedd. When a new Pool was discovered, they would meet for rane upon rane to decide how the new Pool might be governed, similarly or differently to previous Pools. When three Yeerks joined to spawn, there were grand festivals that lasted for a rane before and a rane after the spawning.

We have very little to replace those great wonders of the homeworld Pools. Nothing except the alternatives the Empire has offered us: infestation, conquest, and technology. The last of those is the only one we in the Peace Movement can morally accept. And so we start to build a technological culture through the terminals and the sectioned-off portion of the CheeNet we have now. But I know that that is not enough.

This is why we did our best to stage a traditional dedication ceremony for this new Pool. In the epics, when a new Pool was founded, there were many rituals to mark the event. These are much beloved by the Peace Movement, and for good reason. They represent a new beginning and a new hope. Of course, it was never going to be the same as they must have been on the homeworld. But we’ve tried.

Every new Pool needs a Sage to inspire it, and there was never any question of who our Sage was going to be. Illim told us that Mokad’s grub name is Aftran 942, and that she would prefer to be known by that name, now that she is beyond discovery and capture by the Empire. So we decided to be the Aftran Plisam Pool. Next we had to decide what inspiration we wanted to draw from our Sage. I asked everyone what they had learned from the example of our Sage. Here are a few of their answers.

“I remember swimming by her cage when Visser Three was torturing her,” Generation Freedom said. The children were there when they said this, but there was no use shielding them from the truth when they had heard my screams through the Pool as I was tortured. It was better that they try to understand what they had experienced. “I could feel the snap of her electric fields through the cage, and there was no capitulation. Just a quiet, simmering anger. She didn’t give up, and in the end, she was rescued, and fought back. I’m not even close to that strong. But I’ll never forget that.”

“Aftran’s story was full of all kinds of mind-blowing stuff,” Green Sky said. “But the part that really stayed with me was how clearly she admired that Andalite friend of hers. They weren’t partners, but they still had this connection. I really miss my partner Sssriisssya, and Aftran’s story gives me hope that we can still be friends, even though we’re not partners anymore. I guess I just needed to know that being partners, or Yeerk and host, or whatever, isn’t the only way a Yeerk can connect to someone of another species.”

“Illim says that Aftran is deep undercover as a spy,” Deinfestation said. “She’s fighting the Empire! She’s doing something! I’ve felt so powerless for so long I think I started to believe there was nothing we could do. Well, Aftran is doing something. I think we should, too.”

After we named and dedicated the Pool, we did the dance. Fortunately, one of the stories I’ve collected about Founding is for children, and tells us exactly how to do it. It took me a lot of preparation to learn the dance and teach it to everyone else. I think we must have been very clumsy, but at least all of us were clumsy together.

My place in the dance was to swim first against the current, near the surface, then to swim slowly downward, in shallow spirals, until I came to the still place at the center of the Pool’s current, at the bottom of the Pool, crackling electric excitement all the while. I represented a Yeerk both afraid to and longing to explore the Pool’s depth, swimming down farther and farther from the light of the Kandrona, until finally I was at peace with my fear and could truly learn the Pool as it was.

From my still place in the center, with the other Yeerks representing this part of the dance, I could see the entire great whirl of the dance around us. As we had swum from the surface to the depths, other Yeerks swam the opposite way, representing the journey to the surface to join with a Gedd. The children swam outward in a burst from a central point, simulating the moment when they were spawned. Yeerks came together in threes and split apart, representing potential spawning trios, joining palp-to-palp to find how well they would fit.

The Pool was too small, the walls and floor were sterile, and the Kandrona came from a generator built by the Chee rather than our own home sun. But it was a Pool, and it was free, and it belonged to all of us.


	7. The War That is to Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See endnotes for content warnings.
> 
> “But you're not just a dreamer. You're a soldier! How far are you prepared to go? How much are you prepared to risk? How many people are you prepared to sacrifice for victory? Are you willing to die friendless, alone, deserted by everyone? Because that's what may be required of you in the war that is to come!” – Jack the Ripper, in J. Michael Straczynski’s _Babylon 5_

**Tobias**

I asked Rachel to join me in my meadow. The woods felt huge and empty now that Ax wouldn’t come near me.

«Don’t demorph,» I said when I saw the bald eagle come in from the west. «Let’s fly together.»

I kept a good distance apart, so the birdwatchers wouldn’t get too excited, but within thought-speak range, just barely. When Rachel spoke, she sounded far away, even though I could see her very clearly. «Are we just… never gonna do it again?»

«No,» I said. «I want to. I just like flying with you, too. There’s a lot of things I like doing with you.» I banked south. «Follow me. There’s this really nice place in the national forest. It rained yesterday, so I bet it’s in bloom right now.»

I led Rachel to a meadow thick with wildflowers nodding in the wind. A few wildflowers grew in my meadow, but this was like a carpet with many colors and no pattern. When we landed and demorphed, her hair, Abineng’s shins, and my feathers were covered in petals.

“Morph human,” Rachel said. “I like how flowers look on you.” I remembered Rachel using my hands to weave me a flower crown, and for once the idea of morphing human was only a little scary. Or maybe just as scary as before, but with more nice things to balance it out.

When I morphed, I lay down in the flowers next to Rachel. Elhariel perched on Abi’s head, between his horns. When I softened my focus and went into four-eye, I saw the tapestry of the wildflowers spreading out in every direction.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. I couldn’t look at her.

“For what?”

“For just dropping that on everyone. I should have asked you first.”

Rachel sighed and closed her eyes. “I was mad about that. I felt – naked. But now I’ve thought about it, and I get why you did it. You needed those Yeerks to listen. I bet they did. If they didn’t, after all that, I’m gonna be pissed.”

I looked up at the wide blue sky and said, “What if this tears us apart?” I wasn’t sure who I meant by “us,” exactly.

“Our… thing?” Rachel said. I could feel her looking at me. I nodded. “It doesn’t matter if we keep doing it now,” she said. “They already know.” I turned my head, just a little, so I could see her bright eyes out of the corner of mine. “I hate what they did to you. Ax and Loren. I have a family. I can handle Jake getting a little freaked out. Don’t they know they’re all you have?”

“I survived before I met them,” I said, going into four-eye to see the meadow as Elhariel did. Rachel’s eyes were harder to look at than the sun.

“You survived,” Rachel said. “You deserve better than surviving.”

“I have you, don’t I?”

“Yeah. You do.” Rachel reached for my hand. She held her hand over mine for a moment, so I could feel the warmth of it, so I knew what she was going to do. It was like when she’d been in my head, signaling everything she did with my body so I could stop it if I wanted to. I curled my fingers up to brush her skin. She took my hand in hers and said fiercely, “Let’s keep doing it. I don’t care what they think.”

“It’s just like it was in your head when you fought with your family,” I murmured. “It was just as bad.”

“Of course it was,” Rachel said. “Why would it be different?”

I closed my eyes. Tears crawled out from under my lids and slipped down my temples. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize I had a real family – a family as good as anyone else’s – until they screamed at me and told me I was broken.”

Rachel squeezed my hand. “Do you need me?” she said.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I need you.”

When she got inside my head, she didn’t do anything careful or quiet like she did last time. She just felt my rage and grief and loss, and showed it in a way I don’t really know how to do. She ran through the meadow, letting loose a scream at the top of my lungs, Elhariel flying helter-skelter over my head to keep pace. She helped me scream and cry and wear myself out completely. It was a Rachel thing to do, not a me thing. But I’d already done the me thing, which was sulking by myself in the woods. It felt good to do the Rachel thing.

When she demorphed and kissed me, my entire body was covered in flower petals. When the kiss ended, a red petal stuck to her smile.

  


**Melissa**

A lot of exciting developments lately on the human side of Kref Magh. First of all, the well water system the Chee have been working on is finally up and running! We don’t have to haul buckets of stream water to the kitchen anymore! And God, the laundry is going to be so much easier. I might actually wash my clothes every week now. Next up: composting toilets. The Chee say they’re gonna be less nasty than the pit latrines, and we can use the compost for a garden.

Second of all, there’s new Peace Movement hosts here! I feel a little bad for putting that second instead of first. But only a little. I was getting _really_ tired of hauling water up from the stream ten times a day.

We had a special dinner for the latest set of new-frees last night. And by special, I mean that the Chee did most of the cooking while we helped. They are way better at it than any of us, and brought in some nice ingredients special. We invited Tom and Ruby, too, but only Ruby came, which was probably for the best.

So we all sat around the fire eating chili, which makes it sound less exciting than it was, because it was really good chili, with sour cream and scallions and cheese on top. I sat next to Marjorie, because I didn’t want to break everything up into cliques of who had been in Kref Magh longer, and I knew Marjorie as a lunch lady from school. Ververet played chase in the air with her youngest child’s dæmon, who was in the shape of a firefly.

“So this is where you ended up,” Marjorie said. “My Lord, I was scared when I heard you were one of the hosts who got away! Little Melissa! Hey, hey, Tommy, hold your spoon like this, boy, or you’ll get chili all down your shirt. Anyway. Iniss and I had all kinds of ideas about where you might have gone, but I didn’t picture you camping out in Los Padres National Forest with the Hork-Bajir.”

“Who’s Iniss?” Marjorie’s eldest said. She had her bowl of chili balanced on her tortoise dæmon’s back, using him as a kind of table.

“That was my Yeerk, sweetie-pie,” Marjorie told her. “She helped your Mama stay on her feet, working all day and looking after you three without a daddy to help.”

“Are Yeerks like the nice ghost in _Ghostwriter_?” she said. “Like they don’t have a body but they help you do things?”

“Iniss was like that,” Marjorie said. “But a lot of Yeerks aren’t so nice. Hey, Josie baby, slow down – “

That was when Robin called the meeting to order. “Welcome, everyone, to Kref Magh! Clap if you can hear me!” He had been a school principal, before, and it showed.

Marjorie helped Tommy clap his little hands.

“There are twenty of us humans here now, and a lot more Hork-Bajir,” Robin said. “Those are the big lizard people with the blades. This is their home, so don’t forget that. It’s because of them that we’re safe from the Empire. Not to mention they’re real nice people. I’ve been more or less the leader of the humans here so far. Toby Hamee is the leader of the Hork-Bajir. Those nice robot fellows who helped you move in here and built up our facilities here are called the Chee. One more thing before I explain how things work around here – since you didn’t get the chance to meet them, you should probably know that the so-called ‘Andalite bandits’ aren’t Andalites at all. Or at least, only one of them is. The rest of them are human kids. They call themselves the Animorphs. They come to visit us here sometimes.”

“Oh, I told Methit a _hundred times_ ,” hissed a new-free whose name I haven’t learned yet. “I _knew_ it!”

“Kids?” said Marjorie, concerned. “Do I know them?”

I told her who they were. “Little Marco!” she said. “Always horsing around in line and cracking jokes! Imagine him, being a thorn in the side of Visser Three himself!”

“Actually,” her kudu dæmon said, pensively, “I _can_ imagine it.”

“We have only a few rules so far,” Robin said, “though we may need to make more as we go along. The most important: don’t leave Kref Magh. We can’t guarantee your safety if you do. Don’t go north of the big meeting rock in the center of the valley. That’s private to the Hork-Bajir. Kids can go up there for lessons or to play with the Hork-Bajir kids, but no adults. Do all of your business in the pit latrines. The Hork-Bajir hate it when we do it anywhere else, and anyway we get could ourselves sick. On that note, respect the Hork-Bajir and do what they ask you to do. They don’t ask much. If you have a problem you want everyone to talk about, bring it up right here at the meeting fire in the evening over dinner. If you have a problem you want to keep private, bring it to me. If it has to do with the Hork-Bajir, bring it to Julie. She’s our Hork-Bajir liaison.

“A few suggestions. To the parents in our group: the Hork-Bajir have a creche for their own kids, if you want to try sending them to Hork-Bajir school. It’s a very different curriculum from elementary school, but I guarantee you they learn something. If you’d rather school them yourself, the Chee are taking requests for books. I’m sure some of us adults want books too, but we’re prioritizing books for the kids right now. Another suggestion. There’s no TV out here, so I recommend you find a way to keep busy, or else you’ll get stir-crazy. Melissa’s been writing down nearly everything that happens around here. Julie’s trying to learn new languages from the Hork-Bajir. Find an occupation of some kind. Finally, if you’re having a hard time and need some support, the Hork-Bajir named Elgat Kar has a healing circle for new-frees every day after sunset.”

Robin looked at the rest of us who’d been in Kref Magh for a while. “Any of y’all got anything to add?”

Ruby raised her hand and said, “We’re all living in the yurts here now, but one of us isn’t. He lives in a tent by himself. His name is Tom Berenson, and he was a slave in his head for so long that he’s sick. He’s trying to get better, but it’s best if you leave him alone for now. His tent’s by the bend in the creek.”

“Thank you, Ruby,” Robin said. “Let’s open it up. Who’s got questions?”

Marjorie’s middle child, Josie, put up her hand and said, “Can I see the robots be robots again?”

Luis, who had just gotten done with cleaning the kitchen, said, “We’re always robots, sweetheart. This image you see of a man and his coyote dæmon is called a _hologram_. It’s a projection of light, a little like the kind that makes pictures on the TV screen. But I can turn off my hologram if you like.”

I hope the kids will be okay here. Not everyone has adjusted all that well to Kref Magh. I’m doing okay, but Jamal always seems to either be hiding in the yurt or in the woods, Miguel still goes to healing circle every day because his nightmares are so bad, Ruby feels more comfortable with the Hork-Bajir than she does with the rest of us, and Tom is, well, Tom. It’s a lot for anyone to adjust to, and probably harder for little kids.

But I guess it’s kind of nice to see the parents with their kids. I’d kind of forgotten what parents are actually supposed to be like, after so long with my parents ignoring me. I mean, sure, I’ve seen the Hork-Bajir with their kids, but it’s different for them. They have creches – for them, it really does take a village. If I’d had something like a creche, with more than just my parents to care for me, everything would have been different. But these are human parents, raising kids the human way. I can tell already that Marjorie is a good mom.

There are two yurts now, and mine doesn’t feel so empty anymore. Last night, before we went to sleep, the newcomers told us that they saw the new Pool. Their Yeerks are going to be safe there. Right now, I can’t help but hate the Chee for that. Why didn’t they build it sooner? Garmiray wouldn’t have died if she could have gone there. Hell, why didn’t they build it as soon as they found out about the Peace Movement? They were supposed to be spies. They were infiltrating the Sharing before they ever met the Animorphs. Why didn’t they see that there were Yeerks who needed their help?

The Chee have been so helpful, but they had to be convinced to do it. Just because they’re robots doesn’t mean they’re any more open-minded than anyone else. No one ever wants to believe that maybe some of the brain slugs from outer space aren’t evil. No one ever really does believe it until they have a peaceful Yeerk in their heads and see for themselves.

Which brings me to the part that I’m still trying to understand. This morning, Takuya, an older man with an earwig dæmon who brought his grandchildren with him to the valley, talked to me over breakfast. He told me that he overheard one of the Animorphs saying that he sometimes morphs Yeerk and infests one of the other Animorphs, because they want to. Because they like sharing things in their heads, like I sometimes liked doing with Garmiray. Takuya didn’t know which Animorphs they were, of course, but I really wish I knew. Whoever they were, they were the ones who would really get it about us.

I don’t think I would morph Yeerk, or let someone who morphed Yeerk, into my head. There’s no one I trust enough, for one. And besides, having a human in Yeerk morph do that is really different from a real Yeerk doing it. Part of why it worked with me and Garmiray was that she wasn’t human, so she didn’t judge me. I showed her my most embarrassing memory – accidentally clicking on a pop-up ad on my parents’ computer and infecting it with a virus that kept showing really nasty porn all over the screen – and she didn’t find it embarrassing or funny. She just thought it was weird that humans would write programs to display naked pictures on each other’s computers that they didn’t want to see. That let me share things with her that I never would with another human.

I miss Garmiray so much. I wish she hadn’t died for me. And I just can’t shake the thought that if the Chee had actually _done_ something, she wouldn’t have had to.

  


**Aftran**

I eyed the notification at the corner of the holo-screen that told me I had a message waiting from Bachu. The news from her was never what Eva or I would call good. But sending and receiving messages from her was our only break from the endless grind of being Visser One.

«There’s no time to read it,» Eva said. «We’re about to have that conference call with Visser Three and the Council.»

We did know at least this much: the mission was successful. I didn’t know how the Peace Movement Yeerks were doing in their new location, but they were there, along with the Mielan spawning. And the Empire was losing its collective mind over it.

Eva wrapped an arm around Mercurio, taking a little comfort in his sleek feathers while she could. Then she dropped her arm to her side and said, “Accept,” to the incoming conference call.

A hologram of the Council of Thirteen snapped into place, all assembled in the shrouds of their robes. A bubble in the corner showed the hard, distant face of Alloran-Semitur-Corass, much less intimidating without the _djafid_ he always projected in person.

“Vissers,” said one of the Taxxon-hosted Council members in long, slithering Galard. Their massive body quivered with rage. “Would you care to explain to us how a small band of Andalite terrorists abducted thirty-eight adults and the entire Mielan spawning from the Grash Akdap Pool?”

Even a fool like Visser Three knew when to stop blustering to the Council and give them answers. «They came in through the plumbing, Councilmember. We have already taken key people in charge of the human city’s water system. The Andalite scum will not do this again.»

“The Andalite bandits can morph,” the Council member hissed. “How did the traitor Yeerks and the grubs get _out_?”

«We – we do not know yet, but we will find out and we will – »

“Enough,” said a Council member, one of the two so obscured by robes they were invisible. Their voice sounded like two stones grinding together, the Galard nearly as hard to parse as a Taxxon’s. A Ssstram-Controller, Eva guessed – they were rare, but she had encountered one before. “We have had enough of your incompetence and your excuses. Especially that embarrassing display eight rane ago when you attempted to use the human boy to unmask Visser One as a host sympathizer. She is loyal to the Empire, and has proven it better of late than you have. Visser One, what is _your_ assessment of how the Andalite bandits smuggled out the defectors?”

Fortunately, Eva and I had already taken some time to craft a suitable lie, since we thought we might be asked. The Empire did not and could not know about the Chee. “I suspect,” I said, “that the bandits’ attack was largely a distraction. If the Yeerk traitors’ human collaborators had containers of water with them, they could have used the chaos of the Andalite attack to simply scoop the Yeerks from the Pool into small containers, and walked out of the Pool exits as easily as they came in. I propose as a counter-measure that there be guards posted at all Pool entrances to check anyone coming out for contraband. A simple enough precaution, but apparently beyond Visser Three’s limited imagination.” A precaution that would make life harder for the Animorphs and the Peace Movement alike, but we couldn’t help that – we had to give the Council _something._

«Human collaborators could not have _scooped_ Yeerks into _small containers_!» Visser Three snarled. «They would have been noticed!»

“It would seem,” Eva said, very calmly, just to infuriate him more, “that they _weren’t_ noticed.”

«Your little fable does _not_ explain what the Andalite filth did, and I will – »

“Esplin Nine-Four-Double-Six,” said a Hork-Bajir-hosted Council member. “We placed high expectations on you when we entrusted you with the invasion of Earth. It is our best source for hosts, and will secure our dominance as a force in the galaxy. Time and again, you have failed to meet those expectations. We made a mistake, giving you this responsibility, and now we will correct it. Effective immediately, you are demoted to Visser Five, and must report directly to Visser One. Visser One, you are now responsible for the invasion of Earth. Visser Five is your subordinate in charge of planetary defense with the fleet, as well as security on the planet itself.”

I didn’t need _djafid_ to feel the pure hatred radiating from Visser Three’s – _Five’s_ – face. For a moment, I felt pure triumph. I had once been one of Visser Three’s bodyguards, and now he took orders from me, a Peace Movement traitor he tried to torture to death. Then Eva’s horror curdled my pride into something sour and rancid. «Don’t you get it?» she said. «We have to make the decisions. All the calls that could get your people and my family killed. It’s on _us_ now.»

«We can give them advance warning,» I said numbly. «We can tell them all about the invasion from the inside.»

«Yes. But from now on, every single order we give will get people killed or worse. Even if the Guardians of the Galaxy can use our information to end this. Until then, it’s our responsibility.» Out loud, she said, “I won’t fail. I understand the subjugation of humans better than anyone. Earth will be ours.” «Ours, Aftran. Ours. Not theirs.»

Visser Five began to speak again, but a red glow surrounded his holo-bubble – an indicator that he had been muted. “We do not want to hear any of your blustering, Visser Five,” the Hork-Bajir Councilmember went on. “For once in your life, listen. Visser One is about to issue new orders for how we are to handle the rampant insurrection in the Grash Akdap Pool, and you will help her carry them out. What do you propose, Visser One?”

I could see the answer in Eva’s mind, just as I could feel how little she could bear to live with it. «You’re right,» I said. «We can’t hold back. Or they’ll just put the invasion in the hands of some loyal Empire Yeerk who’ll never help the Guardians. Tell them.»

“The Yeerk traitors can’t plan any more rebellions if they can’t assemble,” Eva said. “Unhosted Yeerks can speak to whoever they want in the Pool, research any topic through the Pool intranet. We need to keep a closer eye on our people. We need to put these Yeerks in hosts, where they can be separated from one another, under watch.”

The Council had apparently unmuted Visser Five, because he said, «There aren’t enough hosts for loyal and worthy Yeerks, let alone subversives and incompetents!»

Eva took a deep breath. She wanted to cry. I filled her mind with the image of a deep, sunless lake, still and dark. “That is because we have only sought out the hosts that loyal and worthy Yeerks deserve. Strong, whole hosts in good health. But I speak of hosts for Yeerks who need to be _kept busy_ , nothing more. We can easily expand Sharing operations to begin infesting disabled humans and homeless humans who live in ill health and deprivation. These are not the hosts suited for the best of us. But for under-occupied, discontented layabouts in the Pool who turn to sedition and treachery? They are ideal. These people are typically kept in highly regulated and surveilled environments, which they call ‘group homes’ and ‘shelters.’ This will make it simple to watch and control potentially rebellious Yeerks. Humans despise the poor, displaced, and disabled among them. They will thank the Sharing for taking them in and sparing them the trouble. This initiative to care for the people humans find inconvenient will improve our reputation and expand our voluntary membership.”

«By giving _crippled_ hosts to Yeerks?» Visser Five said. «Defectives? That is beneath us!»

“Visser One is right.” It was Garoff, speaking for the first time. “Yeerks who prove themselves reliable will be reassigned to appropriate hosts later. We cannot allow traitor Yeerks to spread sedition in the Pool. See it done, Visser One. Visser Five, I know you will do your duty and support her.”

Visser Five’s eyes narrowed, and I knew that he was going to create trouble for us at the first opportunity. Eva couldn’t muster the strength to worry about it. There was already too much as it was. “May the Kandrona shine and strengthen you all,” I said formally, and the conference call ended.

There were new orders to issue. The horrible, cold-blooded strategy Eva had put forth was only the beginning. Feeding schedules would have to be changed, to break up free assembly in the Pool. New security measures would have to go up. And there was so much to tell Bachu, warnings to pass on to the Peace Movement. But both Eva and I needed our moments of weakness first. Eva’s was to wrap her arms around Mercurio while he sang quiet nonsense in her ear. And when she was done, we indulged in mine: to hear Bachu’s message, and finally find out what happened to the Peace Movement defectors who’d risked so much for their freedom.

We had taken to sending our messages in Spanish. Bachu and Eva spoke it, and by extension I did too, while relatively few Controllers did. Bachu said in Eva’s native language, “We did it, Aftran. Firtips got hurt, but everyone is going to be okay. They’re all established in the Pool we built, and we’ve seen off the human hosts and their families to the Hork-Bajir valley.

“Tobias and Rachel have created quite a stir over here. I should tell you about it because it’s likely to become a hot topic in the Peace Movement soon – I’ve already passed on the story to my spy contacts at the Grash Akdap Pool. Tobias morphed Hork-Bajir and diagnosed the _hrala_ of the new Pool. He’s figured out that Yeerk anchors – like their Guide Trees, or dæmons – are… each other. The Pool. Or their hosts. Other sentients, in short. And that the Empire Yeerk lifestyle is eroding their anchors. All adult Yeerks appear to be _hrala_ -sick, to a Hork-Bajir’s sight. He thinks it’s curable – both he and Ax have had the same problem, for different reasons.

“He said he’s cured it in himself with a kind of – well, Mr. Tidwell told me he thinks of it as Yeerk therapy. He’s been morphing Yoort and infesting his girlfriend, Rachel. And she morphs Yeerk and does it the other way around. Interesting, isn’t it? Everyone’s quite fascinated. Well, except those Animorphs who are disgusted and infuriated. But the Yeerks in the Pool are captivated by the notion that Andalites – to their minds – could find their bodies and abilities so useful and compelling that they would morph into them to take advantage. They’re calling Tobias _javeshed_ , a term I’m sure you understand better than I do, Aftran.”

I was already struggling to take all of it in. After my experiences in the Pools and pipes on Garzh, I knew we in the Empire were terribly culturally impoverished, and quite possibly physically malnourished besides. But this spiritual sickness – and pointed out by Tobias using Hork-Bajir morph, of all things – threatened all of us on an existential level. It was terrifying. But in Tobias’s vision – Tobias who had been morphing Yoort _on purpose_ because he and Rachel _wanted to_ – there was something like hope. I was struggling with all of that, and with the terrible bind Eva and I were in, and there was nothing left in me that was ready for what Bachu said next.

“There’s also some personal news that the new Pool wanted me to pass onto you. I’m very excited to share it, and so proud. The Peace Movement defectors are having a dedication ceremony for the Pool, and they’re naming it the Aftran Plisam Pool. You’re their Sage, Aftran. Isn’t that beautiful? I hope that brings you some light – a _plisam_ , if you will – in these dark times.” And that was the end of the message.

«Aftran?» Eva said. «Aftran, are you all right?»

«No,» I said, feeling distant from her, even though we were as close as it was possible for two sentients to be.

«I’ve heard Yeerks say that word before, but I don’t know what it means. What’s a Sage?»

Maybe explaining it to Eva would help me pretend it was all happening to somebody else. «Every Pool has two names. One of them is its Sage. A living Yeerk who inspires the Pool and shows them by example how they should live.»

«Oh,» said Eva, a soft dark sadness opening up inside her. «And the rogue Pool chose you.»

«I’m not a Sage, Eva!» I cried, getting up and pacing around. «I have to do such terrible things every day, and it’s only going to get worse! No one should look to me for inspiration. I can barely stand to look at myself.»

I reached out to Eva, because I knew she had to live with this too, and I wanted to understand how. She didn’t object. What I saw was more of a series of images and feelings than anything else, but if I were to put it into words, she said: _One day there will be a day of reckoning, when God takes the measure of my soul. He is the only one to whom I have to prove anything, the only one who will see everything within me, deeper than any Yeerk could. Everyone else is imperfect, and will only see the part of me that they are able._ She was afraid of that day of reckoning. She believed she would have to go to her judgment without even Mercurio for company, because she would be dead. But somehow, she wasn’t afraid of what anyone but God would think.

«You, Edriss, and Marco are the only ones who could begin to understand,» Eva said, sensing my confusion. «Edriss is dead. You, you’re as stained by it as I am. And Marco? I know in my heart he understands exactly what has to be done.»

«And who will understand me?» I said.

“Well, I do, for a start,” Mercurio said. “But I wouldn’t choose you for my Sage, so don’t ask me what they were thinking.”

«If it helps,» Eva said, ending my frantic pacing to stop by his side. «sometimes I think about what my son sees in me, as his mother, and I try to imagine myself as that woman. Whatever the Pool sees in you, even if it’s not the truth – maybe that’s something to try to live for.»

  


**Tidwell**

The thing about being a Controller is that you can have a conversation with your Yeerk anywhere, anytime. But sometimes, when Illim and I want to have an important conversation, we do it in a special place. Usually here, my favorite place in Santa Barbara: the Spanish language section of Chaucer’s Bookstore. I’m completely walled in by books, a close little shelter of shelves and paper, the air is still and peaceful, and I can trace the spines of the books my mother read to me as a child: _Don Quixote,_ poems by Mistral, short stories by Márquez. The only thing not to like was that I couldn’t open Kaly’s tank to stroke her fins, for fear of getting the books wet.

With the weight of a history of medieval Spain in my hand, Illim said, «Julian, you need to know. The war is about to get a lot more dangerous.»

«I was in danger already,» I said, crouching down to look at Kaly’s fluttering fins, even if I couldn’t touch them here. «They could have caught you the way they caught Aftran. Then I’d be with some awful Empire Yeerk.»

«I know,» Illim said. «I don’t mean to downplay the risks you’ve already taken. I think about them every day. But with this mass defection to the Aftran Plisam Pool, we’ve raised the stakes. The crackdowns we’ve seen are nothing compared to what’s coming. I mean, they’re putting _Visser One_ in charge of the invasion here. I know you’ve heard about what she’s like. She was the first Yeerk to come to Earth. She founded the Sharing in the first place.»

I pressed my fingertip to the clear plastic of Kaly’s tank, so she could press her lips to the other side, a kiss through the barrier. «What happens next, then?»

«I can’t stop now. Not when the Peace Movement has just pulled off such a major coup. I need to press hard for more Yeerks to join the Peace Movement, now that everyone knows what we’re capable of. There’s hope now that there are ways to live outside the Grash Akdap Pool, beyond the Empire’s reach. But I’m not going to hide anything from you, Julian. That’s what we agreed, long ago, and I hold myself to that. The chances that I get caught are higher than ever. And if you’re still with me if I’m caught – well, you know what will happen to you. I can’t bear the thought of your mind at the mercy of… well, the kind of Yeerk I was when I first met you.»

I closed my eyes. «You’re asking me to go join the other Peace Movement hosts with the free Hork-Bajir.»

«I’m not asking you,» Illim said. «I’m giving you an out. A chance to keep yourself out of the danger I’m putting myself in. I could never demand that you take the same risks I’m taking. They’re not even the same risks. There’s no chance my mind will be given over to a brutal slavemaster.»

I tried to imagine it. Leaving behind my students, my home I once shared with Inez. Life without Illim, alone in my head, never knowing when he might be captured, tortured, and killed. When I thought about it, I felt Illim’s feelings in response. It would hurt him, too. He loved helping me teach. He loved my home, the way we’d created new memories there to fill the empty spaces Inez left behind.

Kaly said to him, shocked, _You’re not sure you can go on without us. You don’t know if you’ll have the strength._

«Of course,» Illim said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. «You’re the one who made me the Yeerk I am today. You’re the one who showed me that I didn’t need a _body_ , or – or _meat_ – that what I really needed was a _friend_.»

_We’re not strong,_ Kaly said. _You know that better than anyone. Inez and Katry’s death nearly broke us._

«I never needed you to be strong,» Illim said. «I was a hardened soldier of the Yeerk Empire when I met you. That’s what I’d been trained to do my whole life. Strength was all I knew. I needed you to care. I needed you to know what a real, lasting partnership was like. You knew all about that, because you had it with Inez and Katry. I’d never known that, Kaly. I’d never even _heard_ of it.»

I opened my eyes and spread my hand out across the tank. «Well. If I taught you what a real partnership is, then you know why I can’t abandon you. Not when you need me, and I can do something to help.»

«Oh, _thank you_ , Julian. _Thank you._ » Illim’s sadness and gratitude mixed with mine in a vast sea. Some of it spilled over as tears. I tucked my book under my arm and wiped my face carefully with my sleeve. I didn’t want to get the books wet, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains violent classism, ableism, and eugenics.


	8. Keeping the Stars Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to LilacSolanum for helping me come up with Marco's jokes this chapter.
> 
> “here is the deepest secret nobody knows  
> (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud  
> and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows  
> higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)  
> and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart”  
> – from [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in] by E.E. Cummings

**Toby**

Three days after the fresh batch of human new-frees arrived in Kref Magh, Tobias came to visit. I saw the swirl of his _hrala_ in the sky as he came in for a landing on a branch next to me. “Hello, Tobias,” I said, carefully stripping a line of bark and eating it.

«Hey,» he said. «What’s going on?»

“The new-frees are set up,” I said. “It’s a big adjustment, of course, just like it was for the first round. But it’s much more comfortable for them than it was for the first round when they came. They should do fine.” I swung around and cut into the bark with my knee blade. “We’ve changed the rules around the human new-frees. Humans are no longer allowed north of the meeting rock, except for the children.”

Tobias looked south, toward the meeting rock. «Am I violating the rules right now?»

I peeled the bark away from the tree. “My people do not view you – or any of the Animorphs – as human. You’re something different. You’re shape-changers.”

«You have the morphing power too,» Tobias pointed out.

“Yes,” I said, “but I rarely use it. You must admit, even the rest of you who aren’t _nothlits_ have been profoundly changed by morphing, haven’t you?”

«Huh. Yeah. Maybe your people are right,» Tobias said. «Why did you change the rules?»

“My people worried about the humans exerting undue influence in the valley. This is our place, and humans have a tendency to feel entitled to wherever they happen to live, even if it is not theirs.” I ate my bark strip pensively.

«What about the Hork-Bajir who went back to your homeworld with the Arn? How’s Fal Tagut doing?»

And there was Tobias, not just asking about his people, but about mine, even when it did not affect him at all. I was getting to know humans better, living alongside them every day. But none of them were like Tobias. I wasn’t sure if it was particular to him, or if my people were right and the Animorphs were not one species or another, but shape-changers, belonging to none.

“They made it,” I said. “They’re in hiding in Father Deep, in the secret labs of the Arn. Fal Tagut and the others go on expeditions for bark, and to spy on the Yeerks, with help from Chee-koril’s holograms. They worry that the Yeerks are going to destroy the planet. They’ve been clear-cutting the trees.” More aching bitterness went into those last words than I’d known I really felt. I love the trees, but not quite the way some mystics in the valley like Elgat Kar do. Still, it felt like sacrilege, like hearing your children’s blood was served at your conqueror’s table like sweet cold water.

«I’m sorry,» Tobias said. That was when I noticed that he was terribly sad. On my behalf, yes, but also for himself. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t ask. It was never any use asking Tobias such things.

“Come with me to the creche,” I said. “You helped with the lessons last time.”

«All right,» Tobias said. I started swinging southward through the trees. Tobias took off after me. «The creche was north of here, last time.»

“I encouraged them to move south of the meeting rock this time!” I called to him.

«You are _cunning_ ,» Tobias said approvingly.

The creche was gathered by the creek. The Hork-Bajir children were all swinging around a tall tree with their teachers. The three parents among the new-frees were on the ground with six children among them. Three of them searched for stones in the creek while their dæmons flashed silver as fish in the water. The youngest ran around clumsily with a pig dæmon, both tearing up wildflowers from the ground. The other two stood at the base of the tall tree, looking up curiously at the creche, their dæmons lizards on the trunk straining up to see.

The teachers led the children in a song to start the day’s lessons. They started it, and the children sang back. “Oh-wah-oh-wa-weh-se-gunta-go!”

One of the children, Ghat and Dref’s daughter Magh, noticed the human children watching them. She swung down to a lower branch and called out to them in the mix of Galard, Yeerkish, English, and different Hork-Bajir languages that forms the standard pidgin among my people. The children’s dæmons became pigeons and fluttered to their shoulders, startled.

“Human speak English,” one of the teachers, Kam Jedet, reminded Magh. I had stressed to the teachers early on that they needed to make sure the next generation spoke better English. It would help vouchsafe our position on Earth after the war, if we survived so long. Often I stepped in to teach English lessons myself, since I spoke it better than any of the other Hork-Bajir. Maybe, just maybe, if we learned to get along well enough, one of the human new-frees could take over that job.

“Come,” Magh Hefrin said to the human children in English. “Climb. Sing with us.”

The children looked back at one of the parents – the only male, and older than the other two. I couldn’t see his dæmon beyond a tight knot of _hrala_ in his sleeve. He shook his head. “That tree is much too high for you. It’s dangerous.”

The larger child looked up at Magh. “Grandpa says we can’t.”

I swung over and said to the teachers, “Have your lessons on the ground, so the human children can learn too.”

Kam Jedet said, “Human want Hork-Bajir teacher?”

“Don’t ask me,” I said. “Ask the humans.”

Kam hung by his tail from his branch and called down to the parents, slowly and clearly, “Humans want teaching for little ones?”

The male parent said, “Certainly not if it’s in a tree. My little ones are too young to climb up there.”

“Teaching not in tree,” Kam agreed easily.

The parent with the youngest child averted her eyes and said, “Alito’s too young for this. I’m going to give him a bath.” She picked up the boy in one arm and her iguana dæmon in the other, and walked away.

The other female parent, who had a dæmon something like Rachel’s but smaller, bent her knees to bring herself closer to her children’s eye level. My people usually do that by arranging ourselves on different branches. She said, “What do you say? You want to go to school with the Hork-Bajir?”

“Will you stay with us, mama?” the smallest whispered, clutching a turtle dæmon close. “I like their song and I like the tree climbing but I’m scared.”

“Of course I’ll stay with you, baby.” She looked up at Kam. “All right. Come on down. We’re in.”

The teachers arranged everyone in a circle, like we did for meetings at the rock. “Sing song slow,” Kam instructed his students, “so humans can learn.”

The youngest children went off like a shot anyway, because they were so excited to show off the song in front of new people, but the rest sang together, “Oh-wah-oh-wa-weh-se-gunta-go!”

Kam turned to the two human families and said, “Now humans sing too. _Kawatnoj_ , sing slow for humans!”

After a couple of tries, the humans were singing along. It wasn’t like the songs they were used to, from the few examples Tobias had shyly sung for me. It required percussion in time with the singing – the song wasn’t complete without the drumming.

“What does it mean?” one of the human children said.

Magh Hefrin made a climbing gesture with her arms and tail, and said, “Means, ‘Climb, climb, to the top of the Tree of Life!’”

The teachers praised her for her good English translation, while the human children chanted, “Climb, climb, to the top of the Tree of Life!”

The teachers started to lead introductions around the circle. I heard the leaves shift above me, and knew that Tobias was on the branch overhead. He said, «When we were down in the Pool, rescuing those Yeerks, Ax and I saw where they keep the _kawatnoj_.»

My hearts clenched. I had seen a place like that, once, in a facility we raided. And of course I’d heard about them before that. We hadn’t been able to get past the barbed wire and save the _kawatnoj_. It still haunted me sometimes. Replaying that raid over and over in my mind, asking myself if there could have been any other way. It wasn’t the only thing haunting me. It was one chapter in a long tragedy. I had the sense it was the same for Tobias.

“The Peace Movement may be allies. I’m willing to acknowledge that now. But I’ll never see them the way these voluntary Controllers do,” I said, gesturing down at the human parents. “Remember that meeting? The Guardians of the Galaxy? We spoke about saving children. Human children, Yeerk children. But that Yeerk, Illim. He knew what they do to our children. They all know. And he never apologized for it. Never even mentioned it, in all our talk about protecting children from this war. We may all be allies, but no one sees us as their equals.”

«I see you as my equal,» Tobias said.

“You see _me_ as your equal,” I agreed. “You taught me to think by asking me to think deeply about works of Earth literature. And not once, in any of our conversations, even about the creche, have you suggested that anyone else in Kref Magh might also like to study Earth literature.”

«They wouldn’t understand,» Tobias protested. «They can’t read.»

“You’ve heard Jara tell the story of our ancestors,” I said. “Do you really think he wouldn’t appreciate _The Odyssey_ if you read it aloud? My people _love_ stories.”

Tobias fluffed out his feathers and fell quiet. Finally he was listening.

“My people need to understand Earth,” I said, “if any of us are to stay here after the war. It is a closely-held belief of my people that the best way for two clans in conflict to understand each other is to tell each other stories. We need to hear – _those children_ need to hear – human stories. Andalite stories, if you can get Ax to agree to it. Maybe even Yeerk stories, if we can stomach it.”

«You’ll have to ask Ax yourself,» Tobias said, his thought-speak flat and crushed. «He won’t speak to me.»

I stared at him. Ax, giving his _shorm_ the silent treatment? “What happened?”

«If I tell you, you’ll be angry too,» Tobias said, «but I can’t hide the truth from you, Toby. Rachel and I… we have kind of a strange… sometimes I morph Yoort and infest her.»

If I were not a Hork-Bajir and born to the trees, I would have fallen off my branch. “You _what_? But _why_?”

Tobias said bitterly, «You know, you’re the only one who’s actually asked me why. No one else wants to hear it. We do it because – we can do things we can’t do any other way. I can see her thoughts and help her deal with them. She can show me how she sees the world. How she lives in it. It’s like what you said about the clans in conflict. When I’m in her head, I get to see her side of the story. And when we do it the other way, she sees mine.»

“This is why your _hrala_ changed,” I said, my tail thumping the tree erratically in disbelief. “Why it healed so well after you were subjected to the severance chamber. You started to do – _this_ with Rachel.”

«Yeah,» Tobias said. «I’m pretty sure it is.»

“Among my people, it is considered a great gift to find a way to replenish and grow one’s _hrala_ as well as this. We call it a _gunta-go-sheth_ , a branch from the Tree of Life.”

«You’re actually okay with this, then,» Tobias said, stunned.

“I think it’s unnerving, and kind of gross,” I admitted. “You do know there are other ways to pursue a courtship, right? Maybe I should teach you the Hork-Bajir ways, so you can explore alternatives. But I can’t deny that for you, it is _gunta-go-sheth_. And for Rachel, now that I think back to when I saw her at the Guardians of the Galaxy meeting.”

«You don’t have to see it,» Tobias said defensively. «We’ll do it in private.»

“Well, good,” I said. “I suppose if I don’t think about it too hard, I’m happy that you’ve found _gunta-go-sheth_. But I’m sure it’s not the only one you’ll find in your life.”

«What’s yours?» Tobias asked. «If you have one.»

“Leading the circle,” I said. “Helping my people come to decisions that benefit us all. It’s hard, and frustrating, and every other day I wish someone else would do my job instead. But it is _gunta-go-sheth_ , for me.”

«Someone’s coming,» Tobias said abruptly. «Hork-Bajir.» He flew up through the canopy. «It’s your parents, Toby.»

Sure enough, I heard the branches shift a moment later, and then my parents joined us in the tree. They looked excited. My mother said, “Jara and Ket have news for Toby.”

I looked up at Tobias. “Tobias is here. Is this private, or can he stay?”

“Friend Tobias stay,” said Jara, grinning at him.

Ket leaned down to kiss my father. Then she looked at me and said, “Jara and Ket have _kawatnoj_ soon.”

I leapt downward to get closer to them. “I’m going to have a little sibling!”

“Yes,” said Ket.

I drummed a happy riff on the tree trunk. “Oh! This is such good news!” I thought of the children down below us, and everything they would learn about this new world to come. I was almost jealous of my little sibling. My parents and I had to fight this war. If we weren’t all killed or worse, my little sibling wouldn’t have to fight. They would live in the new age the war created. I just had to make sure the new age was one worth living in.

«Congratulations,» Tobias said warmly. «I can’t wait to meet your new family. Do you have a name picked out yet, or is it too soon?»

“They can’t name the baby,” I said. “They haven’t even seen its _hrala_ yet!”

“Maybe Franaj,” said Ket.

“Means ‘free,’” Jara explained.

“There are already three _kawatnoj_ named Franaj,” I said with a laugh.

“Many _kawatnoj_ named Franaj,” Ket said. “Many free children.”

And even if no one else in the universe was willing to fight to keep them free, we were more than fierce enough in our love for them to match the galaxy’s indifference.

  


**Ax**

Prince Jake asked me, Tobias, and Loren to come early to the meeting at the barn, and I knew why. I was not looking forward to the conversation, but I understood that it had to take place.

I came in human morph. Tobias was already there, perched on a bale of hay. I realized with a start that I had not seen him for five days – the longest I had gone without since we first met. I missed him. At the same time, I could hardly bear to look at him. Andalites almost never remember their dreams, but a sort of waking nightmare had taken me from time to time over the last five days, one that played through my mind even now: Tobias melting down into foul sludge, firming into the shape of a Yeerk, crawling toward my ear and saying, «I did this to Rachel because I love her. I’m going to do this to you because I love you.»

Prince Jake said, “Well, you can be in the same room without yelling at each other. That’s a place to start,” and I remembered suddenly that he was there, Prince Merlyse a reindeer behind him.

«There’s no point talking to someone who won’t listen,» Tobias said, glaring at me. I wished I were not in human morph so I could make a point of directing all four of my eyes away from him. As it was, I turned my two eyes to Prince Jake.

“I’m not starting this without Loren,” Prince Jake said. He looked over at the barn entrance. “Oh. There she is.”

“End farce,” Jaxom said as he came in, dropping the Chee hologram around Loren. She stood beside me, arms folded, giving Tobias sideways glances every other moment.

Prince Jake exhaled slowly through his nose. “You all know why you’re here. I shouldn’t have to give this talk, but I will. I’m sorry you’re fighting, but I need you to work together as part of the team. Ax, Loren, I’ve asked Rachel and Tobias to, uh, do their thing in private, so you don’t have to worry about it happening in front of you. Tobias, you know I still know you’re one of us, whatever you’re doing in your free time. I know this isn’t easy. But all three of you are on the same side. None of us want the Yeerks to win. And if we can’t be a team, they will definitely win.”

«I can work with them,» Tobias said, «as long as they don’t get on my case while we’re on missions.»

I thought about my training at the Academy. We had had exercises where we were purposely paired with other _arisths_ we did not get along with personally, with commendations for whichever pair coordinated best despite their differences. It was a necessary part of military life. I was not accustomed to thinking of Tobias as a fellow _aristh_. I was accustomed to thinking of him as my _shorm_. But perhaps, until I could make him see reason, that would have to change. «I am an Andalite warrior,» I said. «I will follow my prince’s orders and lay down my life for my fellow warriors, as is my duty.»

Loren flinched at that, a little. Then she said, “I’ll do anything to protect my family. That means following your orders, like I promised you.”

Prince Jake relaxed. “Good. Good. I’ll hold you all to that. I hope you can work it out between you, but whether you do or not, I need you to be Animorphs.” He smiled tightly. “Now we wait for the others to show up so we can get that message from Eva and Aftran.”

  


**Marco**

So it turns out that my dad and Nora had a great honeymoon. But while they were showing off their tans, I missed out on some stuff. Like Rachel and Tobias going full slug on each other’s brains.

Look. I won’t pretend that I didn’t get a bit of a rush from Jake trusting me inside his head, when we did the whole Iskoort thing. I can see that. But I’m pretty okay with getting that rush from, say, best friend bonding time over video games, instead of, y’know, crawling inside his brain again.

I came up with ten different jokes about Tobias and Rachel going _inside_ each other. Jake made me swearon my entire stack of Spiderman comics not to tell any of them. “You can joke,” he said to me, all serious-like, as if I needed a joking license from a dork with my dad’s sense of humor. “I mean, we’d all kind of worry if you didn’t. But don’t make it weird, man.”

“ _They’re_ the ones who made it weird,” I told him. “Do you see me getting up close and personal with the brains of my army of female admirers?” But I swore to Jake on my Spiderman comics I wouldn’t make sluggy sex jokes, so I didn’t. Instead, when I showed up at Cassie’s barn, I said, “So, anyone else got any fun stories about totally insane morphs they did while I was off being a good and dutiful son? Did Cassie finally achieve her life goals and morph a tree so she could hug herself? Ax-man, did you acquire Jessica Biel so you could finally get on the set of _7_ _th_ _Heaven_? Catch me up here, I missed the last episode of _The Body Snatched and the Restless_.”

Everyone stared at me. I think Abineng’s mouth might have fallen open a little. _Everyone expected you to be a little shit about this, didn’t they,_ Dia said.

_Yeah, I think Jake might have just freaked everyone out with my comics oath. Maybe I should just make the joke about Rachel being Ripley and Tobias being the xenomorph –_

_Stick to the plan, dude,_ Dia warned, and before my mouth could get started without me, she said, “At least Jake told me what happened after the last cliffhanger in _As the Exorcist Turns_. Tobias looked deep inside Rachel’s mind and saw that during all those years of making fun of Marco, she actually thought he was the cutest and funniest boy in the entire world – ”

Rachel said, “More like he saw how many killer comebacks I _didn’t_ drop on you because I knew they’d break your puny little heart.” And then she seemed to realize that she actually cracking jokes about Tobias being a slug inside her head, and shut her mouth with a click.

Dia slithered off my arm and whispered to Merlyse, “Ha! Mission accomplished. Even with you cramping my style.”

That was when Bachu shifted her hologram and appeared in the middle of the barn. Which was kind of a lifesaver, because I was playing a tough room.

“I have news from Eva and Aftran,” she said.

All ten of my killer, Jake-banned jokes about Rachel and Tobias went flying out of my head. “Can you play it back?” I said. Any chance I could get to hear my mom’s voice again, I was going to take.

“The message is in Spanish,” Bachu said. “So I’d better just tell you all myself. Visser Three has been demoted to Visser Five. Eva and Aftran have been put in charge of the invasion of Earth. Visser Five answers directly to them now.”

I sat on the floor, hard. Dia came slithering back to me, wrapping around my arms like a vine. Why did my body have to do stupid shit like this without any input from my brain? Everyone was either looking at me or carefully not looking at me.

Here’s the thing about my mom: she’s the most impressive person I’ve ever met. And I’m not just saying that because she’s my mom. She came to the U.S. with her parents when she was ten. She got a scholarship to UCLA. Her parents went back to Mexico when she was just starting college, and she worked to pay for her books. She became the most cut-throat political campaign manager in Southern California. She ran the campaign for the first Hispanic woman to become mayor of Santa Barbara. She has a killer instinct and never takes crap from anybody.

And now her brilliant mind was in charge of taking over the Earth. Because I’d put her there. It was my _mom_ we’d have to outmaneuver. Even with her playing the double agent, it was still _insane_. None of us can outwit my mom in a political chess game. Trust me. _None._

Rachel said, “So Visser Three’s gonna just… what, roll over and follow Eva and Aftran’s orders? I don’t think so.”

“Visser Five,” Abineng corrected her. “Oh God, that’s weird. Don’t think I’m gonna get used to that anytime soon.”

“So they can tell us everything they’re going to do before they do it,” Jake said, with a light in his eyes that maybe gave me just a tiny smidgen of hope that we weren’t totally screwed.

“Yes, Eva told me about her first orders she gave as Visser One, while she was on the hot seat in front of the Council,” Bachu said. “You’re not going to like them.”

«Aww, what a shame. I thought they’d order the Empire to send us Andalite birthday cake,» Tobias muttered.

«Andalites do not – » Ax began, but then he seemed to remember that he was giving Tobias the silent treatment, and stopped.

“The problem the Council asked her to solve,” Bachu said, “is the Yeerks in the Pool getting fed up and joining the Peace Movement. Eva said she figured the Yeerks would be easier to control in hosts than in the Pool. She and Aftran are sorry about this. They were crying during this part of the message. Both of them, I think. I’m sorry too.” There was no expression on her chrome face, but she turned toward Loren. “The Sharing is going to start programs for the homeless and the disabled. A big ‘community service initiative.’ They’re going to put Yeerks they think might be problems in the bodies of these people, and keep them in shelters where they can keep a close eye on them.”

Loren’s hands flew to her mouth. Jaxom flinched as if he’d been struck. “ _Eva_ came up with this idea?”

“She’s Visser One,” Bachu said grimly. “She has to play the part.”

Ax shuffled close to Loren, but she didn’t seem to notice. “But she – she told me – those are _my friends_ who are going to be lured in, and rounded up, and – and – how could she do this? Is she that cold-blooded, that she can’t see what this would do to – ”

I was on my feet in a second, Diamanta rattling. “You don’t get it, Loren. You think this is all some fucking comic book where everything bad happens because Lex Luthor had an evil plan or Magneto took it too far or Superman touched the red kryptonite. This is a _war_ , Loren. My mom is not Angel losing his soul again. If she didn’t come up with something, the big Yeerks in charge would have demoted and replaced her, just like they did to Visser Three. She had to do something fucked up to stop something even worse from happening. That’s what war _is._ ”

Loren’s body shook with tears. Same thing that happened last time we talked.“She’s still afraid of me,” Diamanta muttered in my ear.

“Loren,” Ax said. “We have been forewarned. That is more than we get from anything else the Yeerk Empire does. Duzzzzz. We can stop the Yeerks’ plans.”

“Hell yeah we can,” Rachel said. “I’m not gonna let the Yeerks use as homeless people like – like warehouses for naughty Yeerks, or something. That’s messed up.”

Merlyse became a little gray bird and flew a circle in the rafters, looking down at us. She perched on Jake’s shoulder again. He said, “Bachu, get your Peace Movement sources to look into this. See what we can do.”

“I’ve already warned them,” Bachu said. “I’ll keep you updated. Again, I’m sorry.”

Loren left right after Bachu, Ax following after her. Diamanta hissed a little at her as she went past. Rachel and Tobias left together, probably to get down to their whole creepy slug-on-brain action. Jake stayed behind, though. I caught him in a pleading look at Cassie that read something like: _help, Cassie, he’s having an emotion!_ Quincy mantled his wings to cover his face. Merlyse became an Arctic wolf and gave her an even more pleading look, with puppy eyes.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s okay, you dweeb. Cassie can stay. It’s not like she can’t tell I’m having a mini freak out over here, anyway. She always knows.”

Cassie said, “You know your mom’s in more danger than ever, and so are we.”

I raised my eyebrows at Jake. “See? Always knows.” I flicked Diamanta toward Merlyse, who coiled loosely around her paw. “Look, Jake, you know my mom. We’ve won chess games against Visser Three. Or Five, whatever. We can’t win against her.”

“We don’t have to,” Jake said. “She’s on our side. The Yeerk Empire just doesn’t know that. We only have to pretend to play against each other.”

“It’s not exactly pretending when the Sharing is rounding up homeless people and the disabled,” I said.

“Then we change the game,” Cassie said. Quincy glided down from her shoulder and landed on Merl. “This isn’t us versus the Yeerks. All of us know that at this point, except maybe Ax and Loren. When I first met Aftran, she told me that Yeerks think of us as their meat. Well, not all of them do. And there are people out there who aren’t Yeerks who do. We’ve seen that with the Andalites already. We’re not fighting the same war as any of them. It’s us versus everyone who thinks that everyone else is just meat.”

“Well,” I said. “That was a really disturbing image. No wonder you and Aftran got to be such good pals.” But weirdly, that did make me feel better.

“Not meat,” Merlyse muttered. “Think not meat.”

“Now you’ve got everyone talking creepy.” I looked at Jake and Cassie. “My mom is probably not getting out of this one piece. Neither is your buddy Aftran.”

“We both knew that already,” Cassie said. “We both said goodbye.”

“Hey,” Jake said, looking back and forth between us. There was a crushing weight behind his eyes. He pulled me and Cassie into a hug, which actually worked, since Cassie and I are short and Jake is a big block of a guy.

“Cassie,” I said, muffled into Jake’s arm. “He’s trying to crush us to death. Aren’t you gonna stop him?” Merlyse huffed as Quincy bit into her neck fur, where it was too thick to hurt. Dia hissed a laugh and flicked her fuzzy white leg with her rattle tail.

When Jake let us go, Cassie said, “This changes everything. I think. The war is getting – I don’t know.” She shrugged, and held out her hand for Quincy. “I just have a feeling.” And she went into her house.

I looked at Jake. “Does she always say stuff like that?”

“I dunno. Sometimes. Why should I know?”

“Because she’s your girlfriend?”

“I don’t know what we are,” Jake said.

I stared at him and shook my head. “God, you’re an idiot.” And before he could ask me why he was an idiot, I left.

  


**The Mokad Plisam Pool**

****  


**[T] Derane0:** [ _Alert emoji_ ] I have word from the Defectors! It’s a diary entry of sorts by Firtips. Got the message in my info-drop with all the right codewords.

 **[T] Derane0:** They’re going to have a dedication ceremony for the new Pool. They’re calling it the _Aftran Plisam Pool_ , because apparently Mokad’s grub-name is Aftran.

 **[G] Madra:** Oh wow! Is that her name! Amazing that she’s a Sage now!

 **[U] Visser3Gashad:** She’s like the Sage in the Weeds, isn’t she? A mysterious Sage for a Pool that’s hidden from us, and takes many great trials to find…

 **[T] Derane0:** And that’s only the _beginning_ of the big news. Uploading to the channel now…

**_File uploaded: ‘From the diary of Eslin 825 [redacted]’_ **

**[G] Eftrof:** Redacted? Why redacted?

 **[T] Derane0:** My contact said that it’s just to remove details that could be used to track the location of the Pool or the people guarding it.

 **[G] Eftrof:** Starting to read. Ugh, this is reminding me how much I miss Firtips already. Though I guess their grub-name is Eslin, huh?

 **[U] Visser3Gashad:** In other news… [ _Emoji of a Yeerk starved to death, dry and about to crumble to ash. A shocking and obscene image to Yeerks._ ] I just can’t believe it. Visser One assuming full control of the Earth invasion. We are so _shriveled_.

 **[G] Madra:** Oh yeah. And I can already tell you how we’re going to get shriveled first. Visser One is actually competent, for one, and she _doesn’t kill her subordinates for disagreeing with her_. I’ve already heard people talking about ideas they want to bring up with Visser One, now that they know they could get rewarded for it instead of punished.

 **[H] ClassOne:** And allocation of resources that actually makes sense. I wouldn’t believe how much money the former Visser Three spent on that Bond villain device to lobotomize Andalites or whatever it was, if I didn’t know how obsessed he was with the disgusting creatures.

 **[U] Visser3Gashad:** Hey @ ClassOne, what are you doing here? I thought you fed early esh-rane.

 **[G] Madra:** Oh yeah, they’re changing the feeding schedules around for hosties. Trying to keep us from meeting up in the Pool, I guess, since the Defection. They’re really cracking down, aren’t they?

 **[H] ClassOne:** As if we can’t just backread the chatroom.

 **[G] Eftrof:** Still reading Firtips’ diary. You all have got to check this out. I can’t believe this. If anything, Aftran’s story underplayed how sympathetic the Andalite bandits are.

 **[U] PeaceMovementPatrol:** [ _Alert emoji_ ] Enforcers are about to come through and do random checks of Yeerks using the terminal interfaces! Make sure you’ve got your auto-log-off engaged! Look out, everyone!

 **[U] Velger:** [ _Emoji of a Gedd-Controller defiantly waving a spear at a Vanarx._ ] Let them come. I have my user session set to switch to an infinite loop of _Homeworld Pool Sounds Volume 3_ if my palps are forcibly disengaged from the terminal.

 **[U] HackersVeleek:** [ _Alert emoji_ ] News from the hacker corps. We’ve gotten an alert that a new wave of host assignments are starting to go out. They’re trying to clear out more poolies.

 **[G] Madra:** What? Where are they getting the hosts from?

 **[H] ClassOne:** I know. I work in the Sharing. [ _Emoji of silent weeping inside a human brain._ ] It’s awful. I was telling everyone about it earlier. I got some info through the spy network. I can explain again. @HackersVeleek, can you flag the next few messages so people who log in later can find them?

 **[U] HackersVeleek:** Of course.

 **[H] [Flagged] ClassOne:** Hi everyone. I know everyone’s worried about the new host assignments and what the Sharing is up to with its new programs. I have information.

 **[H] [Flagged] ClassOne:** The new initiatives are called “A Home for Humanity” and “Community for Every Body.” The first one is a scheme where they say they give housing and work for the homeless. They do, but when you check into the shelter they give you the hard pitch to join the Sharing, like the Salvation Army does for Christianity. Once they get a Yeerk in, they have you on menial tasks like building parts for Bug Fighters. This is what the humans consider a “compassionate initiative for the homeless.”

 **[H] [Flagged] ClassOne:** “Community for Every Body” is about bringing disabled people into the community. Which is to say every three days to Sharing events so Yeerks can feed. I’ve read the pitch they give to those guys. It’s really sad. “Take an alien into your head so you won’t be so alone in the terrible places where humans put their sick!” is the gist of it.

 **[U] Velger:** They’ve already started that second one, haven’t they?

 **[U] Velger:** I think they’re keeping that one for Yeerks they really have their eye on for rebellion. My host assignment message said that my new host [ _Emoji of a Yeerk shuddering in fear_ ] is a permanently hospitalized child. Easiest host in the world to keep on full-time monitoring, isn’t it?

 **[G] Eftrof:** A sick child? Oh no. That’s so sad.

 **[U] Velger:** I know. I have no idea what to do with the poor boy. I’m a lifelong poolie and I just don’t know what to do.

 **[U] Velger:** I wish I didn’t have to do this. But I’ll do my best. His name is James.

 **[U] Velger:** I’m so sorry, James.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Through Bars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11190018) by [Starcrossedsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starcrossedsky/pseuds/Starcrossedsky)
  * [Broken Roots](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402511) by [Starcrossedsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starcrossedsky/pseuds/Starcrossedsky)




End file.
